Christmas in an Empty Theatre
by Evey Edge
Summary: It's Christmas and Karen has just stormed out on her parents and Dev after a huge fight about the musical. She goes to the theater to rehearse and clear her head, only to find there's someone else there. Karen/Derek.
1. Chapter 1

Karen knew she shouldn't have been here. It was Christmas, the one day out of the entire year when she didn't need to be rehearsing, yet here she was, pulled back here like a piece of metal to a magnet.

The theater was deserted, which suited Karen just fine. She had a lot on her mind. Her parents had flown in for the holiday. It was great to see them, but every time they open their mouth it seemed like they were talking about a world she no longer belonged in. Karen no longer had it in her to be thrilled that Mike Harris had opened up his own hardware store or that Abigail Brown had yet another baby on the way.

Likewise they didn't seem to understand anything she shared with them, like how she'd finally nailed the ultra-complicated rhythm in the Act One Finale. The only thing they seemed to take away from their discussions about the musical was that 1) she was working too many hours and 2) that her boss was a tyrannical, womanizing snake who lived to prey on vulnerable young women just like her. As if Karen needed to ask where her parents had gotten that impression.

The biggest problem Karen had no way of solving at the moment was Dev. Before she had started on Marilyn, Dev had been her biggest fan, her staunchest supporter as she pursued what her parents believed was a pipe dream. The reality of it however was wearing on him. Her crazy schedule meant they spent very little time together, and when they were together she was usually exhausted. Also he was never thrilled to hear she'd be staying late doing understudy duties with Derek. Dev had become absolutely convinced that Derek had some Machiavellian seduction planned for her, but frankly Karen just didn't see it. Don't get her wrong, Derek liked woman, lots of women and he certainly had no compunction about sleeping with members of the cast, but after she'd turned him down that first night in his apartment he hadn't done anything to indicate he had lecherous designs on her. Most of the time he treated her exactly like he treated everyone else: shitty.

Okay maybe shitty wasn't exactly the right word. Derek was…hard on his performers. He squeezed excellence out of those around him like she squeezed the last of the toothpaste out of a near empty tube. It may not have been easy or pleasant, but it got the job done. He was also not above playing little head games, particularly with Ivy and herself, continually pitting them against each other, forcing them to compete, even though technically Ivy had already won the part. The trouble was, no matter how much of a jerk he sometimes acted, Karen had to admit, he got results. He made her better, stronger, both as a performer and as a person. He was neither kind, nor cruel, he simply was. Like gravity or some other law of nature that had to be accepted if only because it can't be changed.

There were indicators of humanity in Derek. A flash of wit, a slice of a crooked smile, the glimmer of mischief in his eyes, all of which vanished quickly enough that Karen if she'd seen them at all. Karen shook her head. Maybe Dev was right, maybe she had developed Stockholm's Syndrome after all. Any way she hadn't stormed out of Christmas dinner with her boyfriend and family and come here to dwell. Certainly not on so impossible a man a Derek Wells. She changed in the green room and took the stairs up to the main stage.


	2. Chapter 2

Karen loved working on the empty stage. She had all the space to herself, and no critical eyes watching her. She could lose herself in movement and the music without being judged.

She'd been dancing for a good twenty minutes before a disembodied voice gave her the fright of her life.

"You're still holding your center too tightly. If you loosen it, the movement becomes much more natural."

Karen froze like the proverbial deer in the headlights. Derek? No, it could have been. The theater was empty, she'd checked. She'd checked everywhere except…of course. Where else would the Great Derek Wells be on Christmas Day, but up in the blacked out sound booth. The question was how long exactly he had been watching. Couldn't have been too long if this was the first thing he felt he needed to criticize.

"Come on, we don't have all day," Karen bit her tongue to kept herself from reminding Derek that this wasn't an actually rehearsal, that she was here on her own free time, so technically, she did have all day. She did the combination again, but it still wasn't quite right.

"No, that was wrong. Wait there, I'll be right down."

Karen waited anxiously. Here she was again, alone with Derek, the way they had been in his apartment all those months ago. That was fine. She could handle Derek Wells. But she shouldn't have to. Not today. She came here to de-stress, but apparently she'd hopped out of the frying pan and into the fryer.

Within minutes Derek was entering stage left.

"It's like this," And just like that he was off, flawlessly executing the steps she'd be struggling with for weeks. After he'd finished he walked right over to her, put one hand on the small of her back and the other on her abdomen. Karen suddenly found it difficult to breathe. Her muscles instinctively tensed under his touch.

"No, I told you: loosen, not tighten." He still didn't remove his hands. That was fine, she was a performer, and it's not like she'd never been touched by members of the opposite sex. It was just that when it was Derek it was different. Maybe it was because of that night in his apartment. Maybe it was because Derek was so intense. Maybe it was that despite being a tyrannical womanizing ego maniac, he was…hot.

Derek gave Karen one of his smug half smiles. Sometimes she would swear that on top of everything else, he was a mind-reader too. Okay, focusing on her core muscles and NOT on the hands that are NOT Derek Wells', that belonged to anyone, but Derek Wells. She shut her eyes and let go. Suddenly the hands were gone.

Opening her eyes she saw Derek had moved a few feet away.

"Good. Now the combination." Karen did as commanded, kept her lower torso loose and suddenly everything felt right. Just like Derek said it would.

"See, sometimes it's better to relinquish a little control and trust the movement."

Karen looked at him sharply, trying to see if he had been trying to throw any kind of double meaning behind the words. His face revealed nothing and once again Karen felt completely at a loss trying to read Derek's intentions.

While her eyes told her nothing, her nose was beginning to pick up on something, something she ought to have noticed sooner, if Derek's general presence hadn't been throwing her off. She gave the air what she thought was a subtle sniff.

"Scotch." Obviously not subtle enough. She decided to feign ignorance.

"Excuse me?" Derek, however, wasn't having any of it.

"Your blood hound impersonation was, if I'm not mistaken, to confirm that you had in fact smelt Scotch on my clothes. I was simply telling you that indeed you had. I was drinking this evening prior to your arrival."

Karen thought back to just a few minutes earlier when he'd demonstrated a portion of his own tricky chorography. He'd been able to pull it off after drinking hard liquor?

"I have a fairly high tolerance to alcohol." Again with the mind reading!

"How do you do that? I never know what you're thinking, but you always know what I'm thinking!" Oh god, had she actually said that out loud? Judging by Derek's bemused expression, she would guess that she had. Oh no, she felt the blood rushing to her cheeks. Perfect. She was blushing.

"Karen, anyone who is paying attention knows what you're thinking. It's written all over your face. "

"That's great to hear, given, that I've chosen a career as a professional liar."

"I had no idea you'd decided to run for office. You can count on my vote."

"Funny." Actually it was pretty funny, she just wouldn't give Derek Wells the satisfaction of laughing.

"Yes, it was rather wasn't it? Seriously though, great acting isn't about lying, it's about telling the truth."

"Really?" Karen raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Really." Derek walked to the edge of the stage sat down and let his legs dangle off the edge. He motioned for Karen to sit down next to him, which she did after a moment's hesitation. After she'd plopped down, Derek continued to speak.

"When you're reading lines for Marilyn you have to find a truth that both of you share. You both come from small towns, pursuing big dreams, you both know how it feels to struggle to get there. If you tap into those memories and emotions, then your words become genuine. So there, I'm right, acting is about telling truth, and you and your exceptionally honest face, have nothing to worry about."

"So I have an honest huh?"

"One of the most honest I've ever seen, yes."

"I guess, that's better than the alternative." Geez, her and her big mouth. Derek looked intrigued.

"Alternative?" What the hell, it's not like she really cared what he thought of her. As a person any way.

"Finding out you're secretly psychic." To Karen's great surprise Derek started to laugh. Louder and harder really than the joke deserved. Karen supposed he must have had a few bottled over his years of terrorizing Broadway.

"Secretly psychic? I like the sound of that. I've been accused of being not-so secretly psychotic before, but never secretly psychic. Shall we test my sooth-saying powers?" Derek looked at Karen expectantly. She did not like where this was going.

"On me? I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Unfortunately I don't think we're going to get another volunteer from the audience." Derek grandly gestured to empty chairs.

"It's hardly a fair test. You already said anyone could tell what I'm thinking, just by looking at my face."

"No, I said 'anyone paying attention' could tell what you're thinking."

"How is that different from what I said?"

"The "paying attention" bit. It's shocking how rarely most people are." He raised his eyebrows at her and for once Karen thought she knew exactly what he was thinking, which was that she had just unwittingly proven his point for him. The man really had to be right about everything.

"Be that as it may, you obviously do "pay attention" to me so," okay that sounded a little weird, "so," Damn it, she was the sober here, so why was she being this inarticulate? "Your point is moot." Not a bad recovery, if she did say so herself. Karen smiled triumphantly. She'd beaten Derek at his own game.

"Touché. Alright, how about this: I will close my eyes while I make my predictions. If I can't see your face, I can't read it."

"I don't know…" Having Derek dig even more into her head than he already had seemed like a bad idea to Karen.

"Come on, in the spirit of this O So Blessed day," the smile Derek was giving her reminded Karen of something her mother used to say 'he could charm the bird out of the tree'. Great, like the man really needed another weapon in his arsenal. It didn't matter. She'd said no to him once before and in a much more difficult situation. There. The memory of that night was more effective than a bucket of ice water. Derek's smile faltered for a minute, no doubt reading her face yet again.

"I really thought that one would work. Clearly you're much tougher than you look."

"Clearly."

"If you're not in the mood for charity, then how about a festive gamble?"

"If you think I have money to gamble, then you must have had way more Scotch than I realized."

"No, no not money. If I am able to make a correct prediction about you, then you join me in the sound booth for a holiday drink. Nothing untoward, I promise." He held up both his hands in a gesture of innocence. Karen was not convinced.

"And if you don't, what do I win?"

"What did you have in mind?"

Karen thought for a full minute as hundreds of possibilities flew threw her mind. She thought of making Derek get her and Dev reservations at one of New York's most exclusive restaurants. She thought of bargaining for a full minute of amnesty in which she could say or scream anything and everything she'd wanted to but hadn't been able to because he was her boss. She even considered making him pose for a photograph in one of the Marilyn wigs. She had to admit the last one was a tempting thought. Ultimately however, she had a different demand.

"An honest answer."

"Beg your pardon?" Karen smiled. For once SHE had caught HIM off guard.

"If your guess isn't right, then what I want is an honest answer to any question of my choosing. No avoiding, or omitting. Just the truth, the whole truth and nothing, but the truth."

"Do I get to hear what the question's going to be beforehand?"

"Nope."

"Hmmm…" Derek scrutinized her face while Karen smiled as her mother would say 'like the cat that ate the canary'. She really was enjoying this a bit too much.

"Of course, if you don't want to play…" Karen let her voice playfully trail off. Derek squinted as if he couldn't believe she was teasing him. She could hardly believe she was doing it either. Tease 'The Great Derek Wells'? It was…unthinkable. But somehow the man sitting next to her wasn't 'The Great Derek Wells': the Stalin of the Stage. Whether it was the Scotch, the fact it was Christmas, the fact they were the only two people here, she didn't know, but it had turned him into Derek; Funny, charming, competitive Derek. A man who clearly didn't know how to resist a challenge.

"No. After all, what's a gamble without stakes? Shall we begin?"


	3. Chapter 3

Derek dramatically hopped to his feet and gave a deep bow to Karen.

"Are you ready to be astounded?" Derek grinned at her with such contagious enthusiasm that Karen couldn't help smiling in return.

"Absolutely," Derek raised his right hand and placed it over his eyes. "No peeking." God, she couldn't believe she'd just said that. What was she, five?

"Karen, do you really think I'd stoop to doing something as sneaky and underhanded as peeking?" Karen opened her mouth to respond, but Derek held out his left hand to cut her off.

"No need to speak. Just send your answer by thought from your mind to my mind. Are you sending it? Yes, yes, I sense that you are. It's coming through, I see now, and your answer is…Yes, you DO think I would do something as sneaky and underhanded as peeking!" Derek put his left hand melodramatically over his heart. "Karen, I confess myself deeply hurt by your lack of trust. Are you at least impressed with this first demonstration of my psychic skill?" Karen stifled a giggle and played the skeptical mark.

"Lucky guess." The left flew to his forehead, the picture of a melodramatic Shakespearean actor. He really was too much.

"Alas, the lady is not satisfied. But no matter, that was only my first attempt. Now then, where to begin?" Derek began to pace the edge of stage, right hand still over his eyes, and the left now stroking his stumble as if he was deep in thought. It seemed like a kind of risky thing to do, given that he'd been drinking and he supposedly couldn't see. Then again Derek probably knew every inch of this stage blind folded and even drunk he seemed to have the balance of a cat. Still, better not to risk it. Karen got up and hurried to get close enough Derek that she could grab him if he looked like he was going to fall. Derek continued to walk toward stage left as if he had no inkling of her proximity.

"Perhaps I should begin at the start of your story. You come from a far less urban environment than New York City, in a different state… beginning with an I…Yes, I see it clearly now. Iowa." Derek stopped abruptly and spun so quickly Karen almost ran into him. Derek grinned. Karen glared at his supposedly shut eyes.

"I can't see you. That doesn't mean I can hear you," Damn, he'd done it again, and this time with his eyes shut. Derek mischievously presented left his arm for her to take. "If you're going to escort me, you might as well do it properly." Again she hesitated for only a second before taking it. What was it about Derek tonight that she found so hard to say no to? They resumed walking in the opposite direction. "You had a happy childhood, plenty of friends, boyfriends, and wonderful parents. They love you very much and what they want more than anything in the world is for you to be happy. They worry about you and weren't thrilled that you decided to move to New York City to become an actress." He was right, spot on in almost every detail, he even remembered what state she'd come from. She's said earlier that Derek clearly 'paid attention' to her. She was more right than she'd realized. She was surprised to find herself flattered and just the tiniest bit frightened. Derek stopped and turned to face her, still with his hand over his eyes. "You're happy that you did, partly New York is home to so many men with terribly sexy accents," Derek grinned cheekily at her to let her know that he wasn't just talking about Dev. His face then grew serious and almost…sincere. "And partly because deep down you know matter how hard theatre can be, it's as much a part of you as your blood or your bones. You know you'd be absolutely miserable doing anything else. Have I earned my drink?"

For a moment she could only stare at him. No one, not her mother, not her father, not her friends had understood the way felt about theatre half as well as Derek had. Even Dev, who thought her tremendously talented and courageous for pursuing such a far-fletched dream, didn't get it.

It wasn't courageous, no more courageous than it was for a drowning man to gasp for air or a starving man to seek out food. It was NEED, raw, desperate NEED. Derek had known, when no one else did.

But how did he know? The small frightened voice inside here was beginning to whisper. Because he pays attention to you? Because you're so special? So talented? So unique from all the other thousands of girls he's seen in his career? That he's slept with over his career. He knows because you're no different than the rest of them. You're a type: a mid-western farm girl with big dreams moves to the big city. A living breathing cliché. He doesn't know YOU well, he knows your TYPE well. Hungry. Desperate to be a star. Willing to do ANYTHING to make that dream a reality. Don't be taken by his humor, charm, and smile. REMEMBER that night. You KNOW where this is heading. He's done this to you before. And Dev, is this how you repay his love and loyalty? Is this is how you convince him that he should trust you, by agreeing to private drinks with a man who already tried seducing you once, and is probably about to try again? Are you REALLY just going to LET him? The voice had become too loud to ignore.

Karen disentangled herself from Derek and stepped away from him. Derek frowned, but let her go.

"Let's call it a draw. You weren't wrong, but what you said would have been true for thousands of girls in this city. Not that I'm really all that different from the rest. I should be getting home."

"No, you're not going anywhere. That wasn't our agreement. We made a bet and bets must always be honored." The Great Derek Wells had reemerged. Though his hand hadn't moved from his face, everything else. All his muscles had tensed, as if he was about to spring into battle. No grin, smug or silly remained on his face.

"You'd like a real prediction? Specifically about you, Karen Cartwright. Very well…I have it. I will accurately predict why you here in this theatre tonight." What was he doing? Karen didn't like the predatory tone his voice had taken.

"Well, that pretty obvious, I came to rehearse." She spoke in a low, non-threatening, exactly how she'd been taught to treat a potential dangerous animal. That's how Derek felt to her right now. Dangerous. Not in that careless lion toying with a mouse way he'd been that first night, but dangerous like a panther stalking its prey.

"No, I mean the REAL reason." He started to walk toward her. She instinctively took a step back

"Derek-"

"No, you wanted a specific prediction, and this is the one you're getting. The reason you are here in this theater tonight, on Christmas Day, is not because you wanted to squeeze in extra rehearsal time. You are here because you've had a row with both your boyfriend and family that was almost certainly about the workshop. You came here to channel that anger, frustration, sadness, and guilt that you're feeling into your work." His words came at her like a succession of angry bee strings that that were increasing in tempo and venom. Still she kept retreating and he kept coming like a heat seeking missile until her back was at the curtain and he stopped with two inches of space between them.

"Guilt?" The word popped out of her mouth, without Karen's conscious decision to let it escape. Maybe it was her sub-conscious' desperate attempt to dispel whatever change had so dramatically over-taken both of them. Maybe it was a streak of deep buried masochism. Whichever it was, it gave Derek all the excuse he needed to continue.

"Yes, guilt. The voice inside you that's telling you that they're right and you're wrong. That says you're being selfish and making them all miserable. That you're a horrible person, because even though you know all this you won't stop. You can't stop. That same voice that says you'll deserve it when you finally succeed in driving them away and you are left all alone. And when that happens, this will be all you'll ever know. Christmas in an empty theater."

Karen felt like her ears should be bleeding. That there should be some kind of visible cut, or bruise, some external mark of the beating she'd just taken. She felt something warm on her cheek. Tears. Big Bad Derek Wells had made her cry like a little girl. He hadn't done it by criticizing her, calling her names, or even humiliating her in front of a crowd. He'd only needed to tell her the truth. And, pardon the cliché, she couldn't handle the truth. At least not sober.

"You win. God knows I'll need that drink now, either way." She headed off to the sound booth, not even bothering to see if Derek was following. She didn't care either way.


	4. Chapter 4

Brilliant. Derek had been called that so many times in his life, he'd lost count. The "Brilliant" Derek Well, choreographic and directorial genius. Funny how the only form of 'brilliant' he felt at this moment was 'brilliant' as the ironic euphemism for 'idiotic'. Tosser. Wanker. Sod. Git. Ass. Yes, those felt closer to the truth.

He wouldn't pretend this was the first time he'd reduced a woman to tears. Over the years Derek had doled out quite a bit of verbal punishment to the performers he'd directed. Some of them were made of sterner stuff than others and hysterics occasionally ensued. All that, however, had been a regrettable, but necessary consequence of his art.

Derek found that taking a hard line allowed him to get the absolute best out of his people. That's what he was there for: to motivate them, guide them, and mold them. He took performers who were good and made them great. He took those that were great and made them extraordinary. He took those that were extraordinary and made them stars. They may have grown to hate him, but if any one of those actresses said it wasn't worth it then she was either lying, or she didn't have the heart for theatre.

Karen Cartwright had the heart for theatre. Derek knew that. He'd known it from that first night in his apartment when he'd sprung a moral bear trap on her and she'd freed herself with grace and style. He'd had it confirmed when he put her through her paces during callbacks. It was there, every single day, when she was forced to be just another voice in the ensemble, watching Ivy play the role she'd nearly had. It was there the days when he singled her out, used her example to show Ivy what she was missing.

He knew what he was doing, deliberately isolating her from the rest of the cast. Making them envy her, resent her, and in Ivy's case, fear her. Karen endure there cold sholders, nasty glares and of course the envitable rumors that she was Derek's bit on the side. She took all the punishments of being the lead, but got to enjoy none of the perks. Despite everything, she was tough. She never complained, never walked out, never cried. At least never in front of him. Maybe she'd put on a stiff upper lip for everyone else, and then at night went home to cry on the shoulder of good old Dev.

Dev. The Oxford man. Mr. "I could tell by the Os". If this was anyone fault, it was that little pounce's. It was Christmas Day, Christmas Day for God's sake, and instead of just being happy that he got to spend it with one of the most gorgeous and talented women in the entire city, he had to pick a fight and drive her away to spend the rest of her holiday in an empty theatre. Well, empty with exception of a slightly drunk director.

When he put it that way, he sounded a bit pathetic. It wasn't like he'd been drinking in the theatre all day. He'd been working out some kinks in the choreography for most of the day. He'd gone out and grabbed some Chinese at some point. Eileen had dropped by for a holiday drink When she'd left, Derek had taken the bottle up to the sound booth. He was quite sure how long he's been up there when Karen Cartwright had taken center stage. He'd been so shocked he'd almost spilled his scotch onto some very expensive equipment.

There was no sensible reason she had been there. It was Christmas after all and at the very least he knew she had boyfriend. Probably parents too. Yet there she was.

He hadn't known what to do. He'd considered kicking her out, but even Derek wasn't that much of a Scrooge. If she was here on Christmas there was a reason. He'd reason that something had happened, probably something bad if she'd run here for sanctuary. He'd originally thought he could just ignore her. Work on the script some more, let her practice in peace, never the wiser he was here.

The trouble was he couldn't ignore her. That was the thing about Karen Cartwright on stage. She was mesmerizing. Without scenery or lightning, costumes or make up, hell even music, and still you couldn't take your eyes off her. So he hadn't tried. He'd sipped scotch and watched like the bloody Phantom of the Opera. She'd spun and kicked and leapt and Derek had drunk it all in, for once freed of the burden of watching with a critical eye.

Ultimately however his enjoyment couldn't overcome the growing sense of his acting like a voyeur and he'd reluctantly called attention to himself by giving Karen the key to a particular challenging combination. He'd thought that helping her might be a worthwhile way to spend the remainder of his Christmas.

Helping her, right, like it was a purely selfless gesture on his part, worthy of the 2000 year old birthday boy himself. The truth was that he'd been craving a bit of human contact…All right, he was feeling a bit lonely! There, Derek was a secure enough man to admit that to himself. He hadn't wanted to be alone on Christmas and Karen's company was always…well… he supposed it wasn't always any one thing. It could be energizing or frustrating, inspiring or biting. There was one thing that it WASN'T, and that was boring. He's been right. It hadn't been boring. Pleasure and pain. Joy and sadness. Anger and guilt. And now what?

One way to help determine a character's response to any given scenario is to examine what came before; the moment before, a minute before, ten years before. The past gives us insight into the future. Cause and effect.

Derek had examined today with a fine tooth comb and no "brilliant" epiphanies had come to him as to what to do about the upset woman in his sound booth. That was probably because no "brilliant" epiphanies were needed. All Derek needed to do was get the balls to do what stupid, insensitive men have been doing since the dawn of time. Apologize for their great idiocy and beg for forgiveness. Right. The "Brilliant" Derek Wells could probably handle that.


	5. Chapter 5

"Karen?" Derek opened the door to the sound booth and found the young actress sitting in the middle of the floor, nursing a glass with about a thimble's worth of Scotch left in the bottom. She downed the last of it without answering. Then she looked over at Derek's feet. No, past Derek's feet, where his bottle of Scotch stood. It was noticeably less full than when he'd left it. Not a good sign.

Karen's gaze slowly shifted to Derek's ankles, up his legs, past his chest, and finally to his face. Derek did not like that unfocused look in her eyes. He shouldn't have left her up here alone. She thrust the empty glass at him.

"Pour me another."

"I think you've probably had enough." Yes, that always worked, telling people who've been drinking that they've had enough. Well done. Karen shot him a disgusted look.

"Fine, I'll pour it myself. I am a waitress after all." Karen put her hands in front of her and started to actually crawl toward the bottle of Scotch. Derek stepped in her path, squatted down, and took hold of her shoulders.

"Karen, stop."

"Let go." Karen tried to wriggle free, but his grip was too firm.

"No."

"Let go!" This time she really thrashed, like a wild horse who had no intention of being bridled. Derek, however, had no intention of letting her near that bottle, and as he had approximately sixty pounds on Karen, he was fairly certain he would come out on top.

"No. Stop." He tried to keep his voice level and firm, the way he'd heard parents speak to children throwing tantrums. Karen, unfortunately, had no interested in being calmed.

"You always have to tell everyone what to do, all the time, you never stop….you…you…tyrant!" On the word 'tyrant', Karen hit his chest with the side of her balled fist. Given her position, and current condition, there wasn't much force behind it. Derek would have taken much more abuse, but one blow was apparently enough for Karen. She instantly stopped struggling and stared at the spot where she'd struck him.

"Oh my God, I hit you."

"Don't worry, you weren't the first. Not by a long shot." Hell, half the people in show business had taken a swing at him at one point or another. That's not counting the trouble he always seemed to get into with boyfriends, husbands, brothers, and fathers. He wondered if perhaps he needed a lifestyle change.

"I've never hit anyone in my life." No kidding. Mike Tyson, she was not.

"Yes, that was a bit obvious. Next time try using your knuckles, and throwing your shoulder into it. You'll get much better results."

"I'm so sorry." It was remarkable, those big fawn eyes; huge, sincere, and full of remorse; hurt twelve times as much as her feeble little fist.

"No Karen, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things to you." There it was, an apology. The first he'd given in quite a while. Karen, gracious as ever, tried to shrug it off.

"It's fine. I was the one that agreed to play. You won fair and square." He could have left it at that, avoided having to humble himself further, but that wouldn't have been right. He needed to try to undo some of the damage he'd caused.

"What I said wasn't fine. It was brutal and insensitive." Like most things he said.

"It was the truth." Karen looked resigned, as though his predictions had already come to pass, as though she really was all alone in this world, as though she already was…just like him. The thought rekindled his anger, not at her, but at himself.

"It was a mean, bitter truth coming out of the mouth of a mean, bitter man. I am a mean, bitter man. You shouldn't be listening to me. I'm…I'm… a horrible human being! Ask Tom! Ask Ivy! Ask anyone really." Derek realized he was ranting a bit, but he was on a roll and didn't quite know how to stop.

"Consider where I was on Christmas Day, before I decided to unleash my tide of holiday misery on you. I was drinking in an empty theater, like I do every year. Honestly, does that sound like someone whose words you should be taking as gospel?"

"Probably not." It was a miracle, a bloody Christmas miracle. Karen was smiling again. At him. Derek thought he should probably try and seize on his luck while he still had it.

"Can you forgive me?" Karen tilted her head and looked at him as she thought about it.

"Forgiveness requires understanding. Why did you do it?" So there would a price: honesty. The same price she'd asked for earlier. For Karen's forgiveness, he was willing to pay it.

"It was a kneejerk reaction. I was angry." Understatement. His blood had literally boiled in less than 5 seconds.

"Angry? Why? It was a stupid bet."

"You wouldn't have a drink with me." Ironic, given how committed he'd been a few seconds ago to keeping her away from alcohol.

"All that was because I wouldn't have a drink with you? I'd hate to see how you treat women who refuse to sleep with you! Wait-" Derek could see the cogs starting to turn. "That makes NO sense. When we first met you called me over to your apartment at 10pm at night and pulled that casting couch routine on me. I came out of your bathroom dressed in your shirt, sang you 'Happy Birthday Mr. President' while straddling you with my bare legs."

"Yes, I recall." Did she have to bring that up now? She had no idea how hard it had been to bury that memory every single time he saw her. If he didn't he would never get any work done. He'd even had to throw out the shirt.

"Yes, and from where I was sitting I could tell you enjoyed the performance." His biological reaction was hard to deny, if you pardon the pun.

"As any straight male, non-relative would." He didn't think Iowa was one of those first cousin marrying states.

"And then I told you I wasn't interested, dismounted, and walked out." Leaving Derek to a succession of cold showers.

"Yes, I remember that bit as well." He still wasn't quite sure where this was leading.

"You had plenty of time and reason for a kneejerk reaction then, but there was nothing, not even a muttered curse." There had been plenty of swearing in his head, but apparently that didn't count.

"You would have preferred that I had been a bit more retaliatory?"

"Your behavior isn't consistent! How could my politely declining one drink anger you more than my deliberating arousing you and not following though?" Derek seriously considered this.

"Because the one hurt a lot more than the other did." It was true. That first time he'd be left sexually frustrated, but with no real damage. When she'd suddenly turned cold on him tonight, shut him out after they been so…he didn't know… friendly, he'd felt slapped. Not just slapped, but slapped without reason. He hadn't liked it.

"We are talking about the drink the right? The drink hurt more?"

"Emotionally. It hurt more emotionally. Yes, I do have emotions, despite the many rumors to the contrary." Karen looked taken aback by his revelation. But, then why shouldn't she? It wasn't like he cultivated the image of being particularly sensitive.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize. Not that you had emotions! I knew you had emotions. Maybe buried deep down, but somewhere. " Now that that Derek had admitted to having feelings Karen seemed anxious not to wound them again, "I just assumed whatever I did wouldn't have much of an impact on you, one way or the other."

"No, don't apologize. It's not your fault. I got angry with you because you didn't trust me. That's why you were pulling away from me. You don't trust me, and I don't have anyone to blame for that but myself." There it was again. That night. It all came back to that night. How many times since had Derek wished he'd never sent that text. That he could get a do-over. Sadly life didn't work that way, and he was struck with the consequences of his actions.

"I really am an open book to you, aren't I?" He knew she was referring to the fact he'd yet again correctly interpreted her motives. Earlier that evening she had called him a mind reader. That was nonsense of course. As a director he spent a great deal of time trying to understand characters, figuring out how they think, and why they do what they do. It was a skill that carried over to his interactions with people, for example the night Dev had crashed Derek's and Karen's private drink.

Derek had learned a lot in the brief span of 2 minutes. First, was the obvious message Dev had been trying to send: "She's mine, back off!" Honestly, the way he'd kissed her, not a real kiss, passionate or tender like Karen deserved, but more of a lip stamping: "Property of Insecure Git".

Derek had learned other things too, the not the least of which was that Karen obviously fancied men with British ascents. He'd noted that Dev, despite being young, handsome, and cocky, felt threatened by him. He worried about Karen's loyalty to him. If only Dev knew how ridiculous his fears were.

The average actress's principles flew out the window at their first real shot of stardom. Karen, however was stronger and more loyal than that. The signs were all there for Dev, if he'd bothered to pay attention. That night Karen had told him where she was going, and who she was meeting. She had ordered a selzer, not an alcoholic beverage, indicating she didn't trust Derek and had come to the meeting for a purely professional purpose. If Dev's goal had been to display the strength of his romantic relationship to Derek, tha]en he'd failed miserably. The only thing he'd convinced Derek of was that the couple was like the bread in his cupboard, not stale yet, but it was only a matter of time.

The final piece of information he'd acquired was about Karen. She didn't like to have men fighting over her. That much was obvious in her facial expression while Derek and Dev had played the traditional game of verbal one-upmanship. Some women thrive on being a source of conflict between men. It gives them a sense of power, feeds their vanity, and bolsters their poor self-esteem. Karen was not like that. She hadn't been at all impressed by their display. She had been especially irritated with Dev. She obviously would have preferred Dev's trust to his 'protection'. Karen was a constant surprise to Derek, at time seeming so vulnerable, and at others so strong.

"Only about some things." Karen looked at him skeptically. When he didn't elaborate she just shook her head.

"Well, you're a mystery to me about pretty much everything." It was at that moment Derek realized he didn't want that to be the case. He wanted Karen know him, to trust him. He'd wanted her confidence earlier tonight, so much that he'd flown off the handle when he hadn't gotten it.

"Yes, you said that you never know what I'm thinking." Derek looked at Karen, considering. Karen had said that before there could be forgiveness, there first had to be understanding. For him to destroy the barrier between them, he would have to explain about that night. Whether or not his explanation would be enough, he couldn't say, but he damn well needed to try.

"Karen, I want to…would you mind…if I explained to you about…that night?" Karen looked at him sharply. For once he couldn't read her face, but he could at least tell she knew what night he was talking about. It had been the foundation of their relationship and the subtext of every interaction since.

"Okay." She sounded almost nervous. Ironic considering she had nothing to be nervous about. SHE had behaved impeccably. He, on the other hand…

"It really was about the musical." Karen's lips tightened and she opened her mouth to speak, but Derek cut he off, "Just wait until I'm finished before you respond. I was put in charge of casting Marilyn Monroe, a very iconic figure. A sex symbol. Millions of dollars and years of my life were invested in this decision. I had two potential choices before me, Ivy and you. Ivy was a known quantity. She had the experience and I'm not just talking Broadway experience. Life experience. Men experience, which I think you would agree, is a fairly crucial part of being Marilyn.

You, on the other hand, did not have that experience. Your audition showed me everything I wanted for Norma Jean. Your vulnerability, innocence, and love, it was all there, in your voice and your face. You glowed with it. Marilyn, on the other hand, hadn't appeared to me. It was all I thought about on the ride back to New York. That was when I had my brilliant idea. I'd invite you over to my apartment and see how you handled exactly the kind of compromising scenario that Marilyn herself faced hundreds of times. It was an audition."

"But I didn't know that. I couldn't have known that. How was I supposed to tell the difference between a real casting couch and a fake one?"

"You weren't. That was point."

"And how far exactly were you planning to let it go, assuming I'd been willing to sleep with you to get the part?" Derek didn't respond. He didn't want to. "Derek!" Oh well, he might as well go all in.

"Given the opportunity, I would have slept with you."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. You're gorgeous, and as you pointed out earlier, I'd very much enjoyed your performance. If you had been willing, I would have slept with you without a moment's hesitation." Very likely there would have been some residual guilt, but it definitely would have come the morning after.

"Yet according to you it was 'just an audition.' What would have been wrong with running lines from the script, possibly in the presence of a third party?"

"Not authentic enough."

"So basically what you saying is that your personal integrity is less important to you than the integrity of your art?" That was actually spot on. Karen clearly underestimated her ability to read him.

"Yes."

"You're unbelievable." She sounded half-admiring and half-disgusted. Derek had no idea which would win out.

"Does that mean you'll forgive me?"

"Depends. Are you planning on doing it to me or anyone else again?" If nothing else, Derek had learned Karen was a fan of the truth. He hoped his absolute honesty would be enough to tip the scales in his favor.

"No. Ultimately it's too destructive to bond between director and performer." Karen shot him a severe look, "Oh and also it would be very, very wrong." He gave his best impression of a chastened school boy. He was rewarded with Karen's laughter. It was a nice sound.

"Very sincere. Okay, yes, I forgive you." Just like that it was gone, that invisible, but impermeable barrier that had stood between them fell like the biblical walls of Jericho. Christmas really was a day of miracles.

"Thank you. You know this openness is really quite liberating. I feel like a new man. Do you have anything else you'd like to ask me to further ease my burden of secrets?"

"Not really."

"Oh come now, there must be something. For our bet you asked for an honest answer to a question. You must have had something in mind. It will be my Christmas gift to you."

"I did have a question, but I don't have it anymore. I figured out answer on my own."

"Really? Now I'm intrigued. You have to tell me what it was."

"Actually it was about the night. And about Ivy."

"Go on." Derek thought he might end up regretting this.

"I wanted to know that if the situation had been reversed, if I'd slept with you, and Ivy hadn't, would I have had a better chance of getting the part. It's something that has tortured me over the past months. I just wanted to know."

"And you think you have your answer?"

"Yes."

"Let's hear it."

"It wouldn't have made the slightest bit of difference. We both could have said yes. We both could have said 'no'. Any combination would not have changed your recommendation."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because sex isn't really important to you."

"I'm afraid I'd had to disagree with you on that score."

"You know what I mean. Sure you like sex, and there are god knows how many women available to attest to that fact-"

"Are you calling me a man-slut?"

"Your words, not mine. As I was saying, you like sex, but you love theatre. You love this show. You'd do anything to make sure it's a smash, from seriously inappropriate auditions, to working through Christmas. You wouldn't let something as trivial as sex dictate who leads it."

"So much for my being a mystery. I feel transparent as glass." Karen smiled triumphantly.

"Who's the psychic now?"

"You are. But I do object to your calling 'sex' trivial." Karen yawned, and smiled serenely at him.

"Careful Wills, we've been doing so well, we don't want to push our luck." No, he didn't want that.

"Quite right, not when you've managed to completely rehabilitate the most miserable day of my year."

"Christmas is the most miserable day of the year for you? " He would guess that would be hard from someone like her to imagine. People who'd always had family, friends and a decorated dead tree could never seem to envision a life without it. Derek shrugged.

"My father and I haven't spoken in years. You may have noticed I don't exactly endear myself to the people I work with, and I hours I work mean I don't meet many people outside the world of theatre." Karen eyes fill with pity he didn't need or deserve. It had been his choice after all. "It's not that bad."

"How can you say that?"

"It's simple math. Most people hate their jobs. They spent 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, 4 weeks a month, 12 months a year miserable. That works out to be about 80 24-hour days of misery. I figure I get off pretty lightly with only 1." Karen shook her head at him with an exasperated smiled playing on her lips. She yawned again.

"Karen, do you realize that's the second time you've yawned in the past two minutes?"

"Is it?" Karen eyelids were starting to droop.

"It is."

"That's probably because of the Scotch." Derek looked at the partially drained bottle.

"The Scotch?"

"Yep. Puts me right to sleep, like a little baby." That's how she looked at the moment, squirming to get comfortable on the floor, fighting to stay awake.

"You do realize that's probably not the smartest thing to tell someone with my reputation." Empty words. Only an absolute monster would take advantage of the innocent vision before his eyes, and Derek was not an absolute monster.

"I'm not worried. You said "nothing untoward". You promised. And you wouldn't break a promise to a friend. I am your friend now, aren't I?" She seemed worried, as though unsure he'd want to be friends with her.

"Yes, darling. You're my friend." The endearment for once felt natural, not phony show talk or appeasement to a riled lover. Karen, somehow, some way, had become darling to him. Dear.

"Good. I'm going just rest my eyes for a minute, and then I'm going to go home." She lay on her side and curled her legs under her. Derek took off his jacket and lay it over her like a blanket.

"I'll make sure you get there."

"I'm an adult I'm certainly capable of getting myself home."

"Of course you are, darling."

"But thank you for offering. It was very considerate." Her eyes were shut now, and her voice was trailing off.

"You're welcome."

"And thank you for your jacket."

"You're welcome."

"Good night, Derek."

"Sweet dreams, Karen."

He'd let her sleep for a few hours before calling them both a taxi. It seemed like a better idea than sending her home exhausted and drunk. A few hours one way or another wouldn't make much difference in the long term. The boyfriend and her parents might worry, but hopefully it gave them more time to consider what they'd done to make Karen feel she'd had to escape to this theater. Although privately Derek was quite pleased that she had.

He looked at the beautiful and serene figure curled up on the floor across from him. She shifted slightly and a dark, wavy strand of hair fell across her forehead. Without thinking he reached over and gently brushed it behind her ear. He froze, realizing want he had done; panicked Karen would open her eyes and demand to know what he was doing. His fears were unfounded. Karen slept on, with a small smile on her face. Derek sighed in relief and quietly returned to his place. Yes, he was quite pleased she'd come, quite pleased indeed.


	6. Chapter 6

Why was it that the only time that Derek really NEEDED a taxi, there was none to be found? He was standing on the sidewalk with Karen's gym bag on one shoulder and Karen herself balancing on the other. Her nap had done nothing to improve her mental state, except perhaps make it worse. Between her drowsiness and drunkenness, Derek was having trouble keeping her upright. Navigating the pair of them down the sound booth's stairs had been no easy feat.

"Take me home." He was trying to grant her request, but he had two major obstacles in his path. The first was getting a cab. The yellow vehicles, which usually covered the streets of New York like ants over a dropped ice cream cone, seemed to have completely disappeared. Derek's second problem was that he didn't know Karen's address, and she was being less than forth-coming.

"I want to take you home Karen, but first you to tell me where home is."

"You're psychic. You tell me." Karen's smiled drowsily up at him. Derek would not be put off. He was currently in charge of Karen's caretaking and he took that responsibility very seriously.

"My extra-sensory powers expired at midnight. I need you to tell me the old fashion way."

"Nope. Not when I've finally stumped you." Her voice had become sing-song. It would have been tremendously cute if it wasn't so aggravating.

"Karen, I am being serious. Tell me where you live right now!" He sounded like father yelling at his wayward daughter. It was funny, because generally he didn't feel in the least paternal toward her.

"I don't take orders from you," Karen paused a moment, reconsidering her words, "Actually I do. Actually we all do. We're like an army, and you're our general. Or our king. A really bossy king. A tyrant. But a nice tyrant. Take me home." She closed her eyes and nestled into his shoulder. He couldn't make up his mind whether it more endearing or exasperating. She gave a little contended sigh. He felt a sudden rush of affection. Searching his memory Derek found he couldn't recall a more bewitching drunk than Karen Cartwright.

"You really are a light-weight, aren't you?"

"And you're a tyrant. Take me home." There it was, that word 'tyrant' again. It sounded like something his performers called him after a brutal rehearsal. When Karen said it though, it didn't sound like a derogative term, more like…an endearment. Tyrant. He rather liked it.

Suddenly Karen fell backward. Derek only just managed to get his arms positioned under her, preventing her from landing on her back. His eyes flew to her face, terrified that she'd blacked out, the something was seriously wrong with her. Karen's eyes were wide open and her smile was reminiscent of the cat that ate the canary.

"Karen! You did that on purpose." Her smile was pure Cheshire cat grin.

"Yep. Now WE'RE doing _Gone with the Wind_." Derek was startled to realize that they were, in fact, in that iconic pose. It much harder than good old Clark Gable made it look.

"More like _Gone Three Sheets to the Wind_."

"You're funny." She made no move to return her feet to the pavement. She seemed content to let Derek keep holding her indefinitely.

"You're heavy." That was a lie, but he needed her out of his arms before he did something he'd regret. He set her feet down on the sidewalk and Karen grudging righted herself.

"No, I'm light, remember?" He was amazed she could still recall his words from all those months ago, especially in her current state. "Take me home." If she wanted to go home so badly, WHY wouldn't she just tell him her address?

"I bloody can't if you wouldn't tell me-" There it was, the elusive taxi cab. He held out his spare arm. "Taxi!" Miraculously the cab pulled over in front of them. He turned to Karen.

"Sod it. You want me to take you home? Fine. I'm taking you home."


	7. Chapter 7

"This isn't my apartment building." Derek struggled to jam his keys into the lock while acting as a human crutch for Karen. Thank God his building had elevators, or they never would have made it this far.

"You wouldn't tell me where your apartment building was, remember?" In lieu of a better alternative, he'd chosen to bring her back to his place. The door swung open and Karen immediately staggered in. Her head swiveled back and forth, taking in her surroundings. She looked accusingly back at Derek.

"I know where we are."

"You should, you have been here before." Derek removed Karen's gym bag from his shoulder and dropped it on the floor.

"Mr. Wills, are your intentions honorable?" Examining his conscious, Derek could honestly say that, unlike the last time Karen had been in his apartment, his motives were pure.

"I assure you Ms. Cartwright, my only intentions at this moment are getting you into my bed-"

"Ah ha!"

"And leaving you there to get a good night's sleep." Karen squinted at him suspiciously.

"And where are you going to sleep?"

"On the sofa."

"That won't be much fun for you." Derek tried very hard not to imagine what might be a more 'fun' sleeping arrangement.

"It's a very comfortable sofa and you're my guest, so courtesy dictates you get the bed." Not to mention he was responsible for her being in her currently condition. Karen treated him to another of one her breath-taking smiles.

"Such a gentleman. Must be a British thing." Karen extended her hand to him, as though she wanted him to kiss it. Derek though putting his lips on any part of her was probably a terrible idea. Instead he took her hand and led her to his bedroom.

"That's what all British men want you think. In reality we tend to be much more George Wickam than Fitzwilliam Darcy."

"You read Jane Austen." Oh God, he so did not need anyone to know that. He pulled back the covers and blankets and she climbed in. He covered her back up and resisted the urge to tuck her in.

"Required reading for English school boys. We had to know what the all the girls were drooling over."

"Find any good tips?"

"Some." He waited for her to close her eyes and drift off, but instead she seemed to be studying him.

"You know, you do kind of remind me Mr. Darcy." Now that was a first. If he provoked any literary comparisons, they tended to be less complimentary. Derek had heard himself compared to "the Dark Lord" more than once. Not that he considered being compared to an ultra-powerful sorcerer an entirely bad thing.

"You mean my money and smoldering good looks?" Karen gazed at him thoughtfully.

"No. You seem arrogant and mean sometimes, but you're not really."

"Thank you very much. I can't say you remind me of Elizabeth though." His teasing had the desired result. Karen prompted herself on her elbows, so she was no longer lying down, but not quite sitting up.

"What! Why not?" She was evidently quite insulted. Derek chose to soothe her ruffled feathers, rather than continue his teasing.

"At the beginning of the book Mr. Darcy describes Elizabeth's looks as only 'tolerable'. I can't imagine any man ever saying that about you." Karen seemed pacified and lowered herself back onto the mattress.

"They didn't get along at first either you know." Karen closed her eyes and nestled deeper into his bed clothes.

"Who?"

"Darcy and Elizabeth. They were like us, when they met…they didn't…get along…." Her breathing had slowed and become shallower. With his sheets pulled up to her chin, Karen looked like a cocooned caterpillar with its head sticking out of the chrysalis. He should go. Instead he sat on the edge of the mattress, watching the mound of blankets rise and fall with her breathing.

Having a woman in his apartment was rare. He preferred to keep this space his private sanctuary and conducted his affairs at the apartments of his lovers. He even had a rehearsed story in case any one of them asked why they were never allowed a glimpse of his domicile. He fed them so rubbish he'd concocted years ago about a neighbor's stove, rather than grant them entrance. Yet here was Karen. He'd brought her here and he wasn't even getting any action out of the bargain. What a strange day it had been. He gradually lifted his weight from the bed so as not to disturb his slumbering houseguest and tiptoed out of his bedroom door.

Now what? Sleep, he supposed, would probably be his best option. It didn't look he was going to get the opportunity to change, so he'd be sleeping in his clothes. Nothing he hadn't done before. Derek's eyes fell on Karen's gym bag.

Tomorrow morning Karen would be changing out her exercise clothes and into whatever was in that bag. If he left them in there over night they would wrinkle and she'd be force to leave in what would appear to be "walk of shame" attire. The idea didn't sit quite right with Derek. He'd lay them out tonight and send them for dry cleaning tomorrow morning before she woke up.

When Derek unzipped the bag the first item he pulled out was a bulky red sweater. As he lifted it out of the bag a small hard object fell out of its folds and onto the floor. Derek reached over and picked it up. Karen's cell phone. The screen read "37 missed calls." Glad to see good old Dev wasn't panicking after only 3 hours of being without his girlfriend.

Derek was torn. Part of him felt the Dev deserved whatever fear and uncertainty he was feeling for upsetting Karen so much that she had walked out on Christmas. The other part of him had to acknowledge that Dev, whatever his faults, was worried about Karen's well-being. For all Dev knew his girlfriend was wandering the streets of New York City at midnight alone. Derek could only imagine what that would feel like, and he didn't envy Dev for having to experience. Sympathy for the Oxford man. Perfect. He was going to have to call that wanker, wasn't he? Happy Christmas to him. Derek opened up Karen's contacts and selected 'Dev'. 'Dev', what kind of a name was 'Dev' anyway? The boyfriend picked up after one ring.

"Karen? Are you alright? Where are you? Do you know how worried I've been? Your parents have been going bonkers with worry!" Derek was tempted to just hang up and forget the whole thing. Instead he followed his better nature and poorer instincts.

"It's Derek Wills, actually. Hi. Happy Christmas." There was a long beat of silence from the other end of the line. The calm before the storm.

"Why do you have Karen's phone? Where is she?" Derek didn't care for Dev's tone, not when he was doing the stupid git a favor by calling at all.

"Look, I'm not Karen. I don't care to be screamed at, particular not by a near stranger at 12:35 am. If you can't calm down, then I'm hanging up." There was a five second pause.

"I'm sorry. Would you please tell me where my girlfriend is?" The words were polite enough, even if they sounded like they were coming through gritted teeth, so Derek chose to answer.

"Karen's fine. She's here with me in my apartment. She's perfectly safe."

"Could you please put her on the phone?" The thought of waking Karen to subject her to Dev's interrogation was unacceptable to Derek.

"No, I can't, she's asleep, but I'm sure she'll be more than happy to talk to you tomorrow."

"How did she get to your apartment?" Instead of waiting until moment to grill his girlfriend, Dev had chosen to interrogate Derek instead. Lovely.

"We both rather coincidently ended up at the theater tonight. We had a few holiday drinks, and as the more sober one, I arranged safe transport back to my apartment. "

"May I ask why you couldn't send her home?"

"I tried, but I don't know your address and Karen wouldn't tell me so this seemed like the best solution available. Any way, that was all I was calling to tell you-"

"I'm sorry, what was all you were calling to tell me? That my girlfriend was currently sleeping in your apartment?" The pretense of civility was gone from Dev's voice.

"I was calling to reassure you that Karen was safe, so that you didn't worry." This definitely fell under the heading of, 'No good deed goes unpunished.'

"I have a fight with my girlfriend and hours later another man calls to tell me she's spent the night with him. This is supposed to reassure me how?"

"I don't know what you're implying, but-"

"You know exactly what I'm implying."

"You think I shagged your girlfriend and now I'm calling to gloat?" Derek could practically feel the heat from Dev's anger steam through his earpiece. He was sure he was in for an onslaught of profanity and he was perversely forward to it. Arguing with Dev felt far more natural than trying to be polite. He was startled when the next voice he heard through the phone wasn't Dev's at all.

"This is Dennis Cartwright, Karen's father." Oh God. This conversation had started bad and was heading toward worse at a frightening pace.

"Yes, Mr. Cartwright. Hello. Happy Christmas." Heaven help him, he was actually nervous. How long had it been since he'd been forced to interact with a woman's father? Whenever it was, he was fairly certain it hadn't gone well.

" Yeah, Merr..er..Happy Christmas to you too. Listen, we'd really feel more comfortable if Karen was home, resting in her own bed. If you could just give us your address, we'd be happy to come and pick her up." Derek could picture it now, Karen's father coming to rescue her from his clutches, possibly challenging him to pistols at dawn. That was a scenario he's like to avoid, if at all possible.

"I would Mr. Cartwright, however my apartment is at least twenty minutes away and I think that sleep is really the best thing for Karen at this moment."

"I thought you told Dev that you don't know where their apartment is?" Derek had a bad premonition about where this line of questioning was going.

"I don't."

"Then, how do you know it's at least twenty minutes away?" Oh bloody hell.

"Karen mentioned once before. Look sir-" Sir? What was happening here? The terrifying tyrannical Derek Wills reduced to a sweaty palmed teenager? If Tom could see him now, he'd be laughing his ass off.

"And when, exactly, was she over at your apartment before tonight?" Alright Wills, man up. You faced down rampaging starlets and apoplectic producers without blinking. You can handle Dennis Cartwright.

"Mr. Cartwright, this isn't something I'd care to discuss with you at this time of night, or quite frankly, ever. I only called you in the first place to ease your mind that Karen was in fact safe. Having done that, I will say good night to you and that'll you will see Karen tomorrow morning." Derek disconnected the call, smiling to himself. That had felt good. He was Derek Wills, that hadn't changed. He hadn't become some kind of soft, eunuchical, nancy boy just because Karen Cartwright had called him her friend. Then Derek proceeded to lay out Karen's clothes so her outfit wouldn't be wrinkled tomorrow.


	8. Chapter 8

Oh God, what had she done? Karen had woken to find herself in a stranger's bedroom, a male stranger's bedroom judging by the clothes hanging in the partially open closet. Her head hurt and her mouth was dry. She'd been drinking. She checked her clothes and found that all were present and accounted for. That was a relief.

Flashes of memories came back to her. The theater that hadn't been quite as empty as she'd thought. Derek's attempt to read her mind. Derek's predicting she would drive her family and Dev away. Drinking Scotch in the sound booth. Her heart to heart with Derek. His partially carrying her down the sound booth stairs and hailing a cab. The rest was a bit hazy. How exactly had she ended up back in his apartment?

Karen looked at the bed. It didn't look like anyone else had slept here last night. She felt the other side of the mattress and it was cool. No residual body heat. So the question of the hour was, 'Where was Derek?'

Karen swung her feet over the side of the bed and put them on the floor. She tiptoed to the bedroom door. Feeling like a child checking for presents on Christmas morning, she cracked open the door and looked out. The apartment was as she'd remembered it from that first night here. Large, tastefully if formally decorated, and looking like no one lived here. There were no magazines lying around on the coffee table or jackets left hanging over the backs of chairs. The only sign of human occupation was a blanket that had been folded on the sofa, but not yet put away. The sofa. Derek had slept on the couch. Nothing had happened.

Karen immediately amended the thought. Nothing physical had happened. Emotionally though, a lot had changed; her feelings toward Derek, for example. Her resentment and fear of him had somehow melted away and been replaced by…affection. She'd seen many sides to Derek last night, and while he was by no means a perfect man, he wasn't the arrogant chauvinist she'd imagined him to be. Derek Wills had become her friend.

Despite these changes Karen was still tempted to sneak out before Derek returned from wherever he had disappeared to. She felt more awkward than she had after Derek had seen her in nothing but his white shirt. Her emotional nakedness was far more embarrassing than her physical nudity. Derek had seen her crying and he'd seen her drunk. She also had a vague recollection of deliberately falling into his arms. She wasn't sure exactly how to act around Derek now. Suddenly she heard the sound of keys in the lock. She guessed she was about to find out.

The door swung open and there was Derek Wills with a large grocery bag under his arm and what looked like a dry cleaning bag in his hand. He looked up and seemed to get a start from seeing her there. He covered quickly with one of his half smiles.

"You couldn't give me a hand with this, could you?" Karen realized she had been just standing there, staring at him.

"Yeah, of course." She rushed over and took the dry cleaning bag out of his hands, "Where do you want them?"

"You can hang them in the hall closet for now. There actually yours. I thought you might prefer it if you left wearing something with less wrinkles than my grandmother's backside." Laughter escaped Karen and suddenly her discomfort was diffused like a poorly made bomb. What did she have to be nervous about? This was Derek; funny, rude, arrogant, charming, brilliant, and, surprisingly considerate Derek. Her friend.

Derek walked over and put the brown paper bag on his breakfast bar. Karen still had questions about how she'd come to be in his apartment on the day after Christmas.

"Derek, how exactly did I end up here last night?"

"You don't remember?"

"Not entirely, no."

"You threw yourself at me and demanded that I take you home. I was able to fight off your lustful advances, but felt it would be irresponsible to turn you loose on the streets of New York City. I heroically lured you back to my apartment and locked you in my bedroom, thus protecting my own virtue and the virtue of goodness knows how many poor, unsuspecting young men."

Karen stifled a large and particularly undignified guffaw. Derek was clearly joking, but she had the sneaking suspicion that there were elements of truth in his narrative. When she'd finally gotten a hold of herself she managed to choke out, "You're not funny."

"Your barely contained laughter might suggest otherwise."

"What really happened?"

"I was trying to hail a taxi and you were being a bit stubborn about revealing your address. You wanted me to learn it by reading your mind." Oh god, it was coming back to her now.

"Then what?"

"The psychic spirits were being uncooperative, so I opted to take you back here to sleep it off. I put you to bed in my room and slept on the sofa." Karen tried to remember something about coming in here last night. For some reason the image of Colin Firth kept popping up in her mind, but for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why.

Her eyes fell on her cell phone which was resting on Derek's breakfast bar. Dev and her parents. She hadn't called them. They must have been worried sick.

"Oh my God, Dev is going to kill me. My parents are going to kill me." Her headache seemed to double in the span of two seconds. She sank onto one of Derek's bar stools and put her head in her hands.

"I don't know whether or not this will help, but I called them." Karen jerked her head up to look at Derek, unsure she'd heard what she thought she'd heard.

"You what!" That came out louder than she'd intended.

"When I was hanging the clothes from your bag, your phone fell out. There were quite a few missed calls. After much internal debate, I dialed the number labeled 'Dev'."

"Oh no." Karen could just imagine it, Dev seeing her number, frantically picking up only to discover Derek on the other end.

"Oh no, indeed. I had hoped he would be reassured by the fact you were safe in a secure apartment building, rather than aimlessly walking the desperate and dangerous streets of New York City alone, but apparently not. "

"You don't say?" She could only imagined how this had sounded to Dev, considering his conviction that Derek was on a ceaseless campaign to get her into to bed. And Derek sort of had, from a certain point of view.

"I think he would have preferred you try your luck with a bench in Central Park. Fancy that."

"Fancy that."

"He seemed a bit jealous, truth be told, which I really can't begin to understand." Derek had to kidding her, given their history together, but he actually seemed perfectly serious.

"Oh you can't? You can't understand why Dev might be concerned your intentions towards me might not be pure?" She'd decided to forgive the past, but that didn't blot it out entirely, either for her or Dev.

"Don't be ridiculous. You're a beautiful woman. Dev should assume that any man, myself included, has dishonorable intentions toward you." Derek's grin was completely unreadable. Just when she'd thought she'd gotten a hold on Derek motives, they seemed to change. Was he still teasing or was he flirting? Would she ever be able to tell the difference with Derek?

"Derek, are you coming on to me? Because I really don't think I could handle that this morning."

"My saying that you're beautiful is not a come on, I assure you." Again, she was damned if he didn't seem sincere.

"A man calling a woman beautiful is not a come on?" She layered her response with heavy skepticism.

"If she looks like you, no. It's stating the obvious, making a general observation, like 'the sun is bright' or 'the grass is green'."

"Or 'Derek Wills needs a shave'?" Ha, two could play at his game. Derek's hand flew to his chin.

"I do not need a shave. I like it this length-" Karen couldn't help it. She started to giggle,"Karen Cartwright, are you teasing me?"

"Teasing you? No! I was just stating the obvious. Making a general observation." Now it was Derek's turn to laugh.

"You know, behind those doe eyes, you are a delightfully wicked creature." His smile and his eyes were full of admiration that simultaneously warmed and frightened her.

"First I have an honest face, and now I'm wicked."

"Delightfully wicked."

"Delightfully wicked. You can't have it both ways." She wasn't just talking about this conversation. Fun as Derek's flirty comments were, she needed to be sure he wasn't planning on crossing the line. Their newly fledged friendship was going to have enough problems without her constantly worrying that it would morph into something that would comprise her loyalty to Dev.

"No, I suppose not. Never seems to stop me from trying though, does it?" Derek's tone had lightened. His smile had become considerably less wolfish. He'd received her message without her having to actually say anything out loud. Derek had heard her unspoken concerns and placated them without making the moment awkward. It was just what she should have expected from him.

"If I'm so beautiful that apparently no men should be trusted around me, why can't you understand Dev's jealousy?" She hoped she was successfully imitating his flippant tone.

"Because, as the saying goes, it takes two to tango, and infidelity is not something you are capable of." He said it so matter-of-factly, like it was something so obvious that Dev was an idiot for not recognizing it. Karen was surprised to find out how much his good opinion meant to her. She tried a subject change in the hope that Derek wouldn't notice she was blushing at his praise.

"So what happened after Dev accused you of taking advantage of me?"

"Your father high-jacked the call." Oh man. Derek on the phone with Dev was bad enough. Derek on the phone with her dad was a nightmare of epic proportions.

"You talked to my father? How bad was it?"

"Let's just say he is very good at his job. I was instantly transported back to the days when I wore a retainer." Karen tried to form that mental image and found she couldn't imagine Derek as anything other than the handsome, infuriatingly confident man he was today.

"You wore a retainer?"

"Yes. The English do occasionally practice modern dentistry. But mum's the word, you don't want to go spoiling our reputation. Your father offered to come pick you up. I declined and then hung up."

"You hung up on my father?" She couldn't anyone hanging up on her father. Then again, considering it was Derek, maybe she could.

"It had been a long night."

"I'm sure that went over well. He hates not having the last word." Undoubtedly she would be hearing about that on top of everything else when she got home. Oh well, it was a proverbial drop in the bucket, when she took into account the rest of her infractions.

"Well, at least we had that in common. Now, before you head back to face the inquisition, I thought it might be a good idea for you to fortify yourself. I wasn't sure what you liked, so I picked up bagels, muffins and donuts. I also have coffee, milk, and orange juice. Also this water is all yours as are those aspirin for your headache." As he spoke he'd been pulling the buffet he'd brought her out of the bag and laying them out on his breakfast bar. She discovered she was suddenly famished.

"You're experienced at this aren't you? At nursing hangovers I mean."

"Just my own. Not all of us have spent our lives in purely virtuous pursuits." Even though it was intended as a joke, Karen found herself a little peeved at Derek's comment.

"You make it sound like I've never been drunk before. I drink beer. And wine occasionally."

"You're practically a burgeoning alcoholic." He was teasing her again, and she did not want to be teased on this subject. She was a little sick of this 'good girl' image that seemed to follow her everywhere.

"I'm just saying that I'm not some little innocent, so you don't have to treat me like one."

"My mistake. You are clearly living a life of great dissipation. I apologize if I ever implied otherwise." Karen tried to hold on to her irritation, but it crumbled in the face of Derek's cheeky grin.

"Ass."

"You know I think I preferred 'tyrant'."

"What?"

"It's what you kept calling me last night. I think I prefer it to 'Ass' as a nickname."

"I'll keep that in mind." Derek shook his head and opened the box of donuts. It figured he was one of those men who could eat anything he wanted and not put on a single pound.

"I honestly don't understand women. Those with a lot of life experience, wish they didn't have it and those without it wish they did. Why should it bother you?"

"It bothers me because this image that I have of being 'the girl next door' screws with my chances of getting roles." Derek instantly understood what she was talking about. That made sense given that he'd had the same reservations about her when she had first auditioned.

"It's true that sex does sell in this business, but just because you don't have torrid affairs in your personal life, doesn't mean you don't know how turn men into puddles of testosterone at your feet." Karen had a hard time with that image. She'd never had any problem getting dates, but she didn't exactly consider herself a femme fatale.

"You think?"

"Darling, I've experienced it. Trust me; you have nothing to worry about on that score." Karen blushed a little and looked away. She searched for a subject change.

"It's going to be strange."

"What is?"

"Rehearsal today. Going back to the way things were." How would that feel, taking direction from Derek once he'd fallen back into his directorial persona. Derek frowned and she sensed he was trying to picture the same thing.

"I don't see why it should be a problem. You're friends with a few of the ensemble members aren't you? Is it strange working with them?"

"No, but that's different. They're not my boss." Derek's frown deepened.

"Hmmm…Yes, I see your point. I can't be…I can't go any…easier on you, just because we're…you know…" It was kind of cute, how he couldn't seem to bring himself to say the word.

"Friends," She supplied with a smirk.

"Yes."

"I wouldn't want you to. That last thing I need is for everyone to start saying I'm getting special treatment. I have a hard enough time fitting in as it is. Plus, while I can't say being on the receiving end of your direction is always pleasant, it does make me better." Derek didn't seem offended by her words. If anything he seemed relieved.

"Good. Glad you feel that way. So if I get a bit abrasive-"

"Abrasive, you?" Karen figured she should poke as much fun at him as could now, so she wouldn't be as tempted to later.

"It won't affect our relationship outside of the studio?"

"Church and State. While we work, we are director and performer, outside work, we are friends." With the ground rules firmly established Karen dove into the blueberry muffin she'd had her eye on. She'd need her strength to face down what was sure to be waiting for her at home.


	9. Chapter 9

Karen's keys had been in the lock for a full ten seconds, but she still hadn't unlocked the door to her apartment. She knew that eventually she'd have to face Dev and her parents, but having the confrontation right now was less than appealing. After all, she had everything she needed for rehearsal in her gym bag and she'd already eaten breakfast. Why couldn't she just head over to the studio and deal with everything after everyone had had more time to simmer down.

Because that would the cowardly thing to do, and she was not a coward. Karen owed her family, if not an apology, then at least an explanation. She took a deep breath, turned the key and pushed open the door.

"Hello? I'm home." She'd didn't have to search hard to find everyone. Her father, her mother and Dev were all sitting on the couch waiting for her. Their grave faces and formal posture gave the scene all the appearance of an intervention. Her father was the first to speak.

"Karen, sit down please." Karen did not like the look of where this was going, but she dropped her bag and sat down in an empty chair.

"Okay, before you say anything, I want to apologize for storming out and not calling. It was inconsiderate of me." There, she admitted what she had done wrong. She had taken responsibility and that was what adults did.

"Yes, yes it was. It was very unlike you, Karen. We've all been worried sick. Anything might have happened to you." Apparently her father wasn't in the mood to put this all behind them, in the spirit of the holidays.

"I'm sorry you worried and yes, I should have called, but I am an adult. I can take care of myself." She felt like she was back in high school, coming home after breaking her curfew.

"Can you? I don't really know that you can, judging by your behavior."

"My behavior?" She looked at her mother, who usually tried to intervene on her behalf when her father started getting carried away. Her mother avoided eye contact.

"Leaving your family and your boyfriend on Christmas to go and get drunk with a strange man and then spend the night at his apartment." Karen looked at Dev. The look in his eyes said all too clearly that he agreed with everything he father was saying.

"That's not what happened." Okay, it was sort of what happened, but they were making it sound worse than it was. She'd never intended to meet Derek and though she did technically spend the night at Derek's, she hadn't 'spent the night' in the euphemistic sense.

"Well, that's what that man told us when he called at 12:35am." She'd been wondering when Derek's phone call was going to come up.

"'That man'? You mean Derek." The way they said 'that man', like he was an unmentionable or something, really irritated her.

"I mean the director that likes to invite young actresses back to his apartment for private coaching sessions." Karen shot a look at Dev. She couldn't believe he was reporting back that things she told him to her father.

"Derek was a perfect gentleman. He put me to bed and spent the night on the couch." If Derek had wanted to take advantage of her, he could have easily done it last night. The fact that he hadn't even tried said something about his character.

"Really?" Dev had finally decided to chime in, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

"Yes, really. He didn't even have to call you. He only did so you won't worry." Karen's emotions were rapidly shifting from guilt to anger. They didn't know Derek and they were making all these judgments and assumptions about him.

"Very generous of him, considering he was one who got you so smashed you couldn't even call yourself a cab." Again the truth here was being grossly distorted.

"He didn't get me drunk, I got myself drunk." With the help of Derek's scotch, but they didn't need to know that.

"And this Derek played no part in that?" Karen paused a moment before answering, not wanting to lie, but not wanting to give them any more ammo to use again her new friend.

"I got drunk because of what was happening, what IS happening, here in this family, not because of Derek." Derek had only spoken aloud that things has been lurking in the back of her mind that she'd been too afraid to consciously acknowledge.

"Honey, nothing is happening with this family. We're fine, we're just worried about you is all." Mom had finally decided to contribute her two cents. As ever she was trying to smooth things over. This time Karen was not interested in being pacified.

"No, we're not fine. I didn't walk out last night because things are fine. I'm tired of hearing how every time you criticize some choice that I'm making, it's because you're worried about me. At some point you're going to have to trust that I know what I'm doing." It was hard enough trusting herself without having everyone else in her life second guessing her too.

"Karen-"

"Honey, I'd really like to go and do some sight-seeing. Let's leave the kids to talk things out." Her father looked for a second like he might refuse, but the changed his mind. They stood, grabbed their coats, hats, and gloves, and left the apartment. After they were gone Karen turned to Dev expectantly.

"Anything you'd like to add, Dev? Don't hold back on my account."

"I don't know what you expect me to say."

"I don't know, how about you're happy I'm home." That might be a normal reaction, given their fight last night.

"Of course I'm happy you're home, but under the circumstances I think I'm entitled to a little anger as well." Maybe she's deserved a little anger, but not the ambush that Dev had conspired with her parents to launch at her.

"I already apologized for walking out and not calling." What was the most upsetting for Karen, was that no one seemed interested in taking any responsibility for what happened, besides her.

"I'm more considered with who called in your place." And he'd circled back to Derek yet again.

"Dev, nothing happened with Derek. I went to theater to blow off some steam and he happened to be there. We talked, I drank, he took care of me, and that's it."

"Forgive me if I have a hard time believing that of Derek Wills." True Derek wasn't what Karen would describe as the nurturing type, but that made his actions all the more sweet. Sweet? Did she really just think of that word in conjunction with Derek Wills? Her opinion of him really had changed overnight.

"He's not some kind of monster, Dev."

"This is a change. Usually you describe him as being an evil dictator."

"Like I told you Dev, we talked and I got to know him a little better." What was that line from Pride and Prejudice, 'I don't mean to say his mind or his manners had changed for the better, but rather my knowing him better improved my opinion of him.'

"And you discovered that deep down, he's just a big teddy bear." Derek Wills, a teddy bear? Hardly.

"Not by a long shot. He still can be jerk and a womanizer, but he's other things too." People were rarely just what they seemed on the surface, especially Derek Wills. The trick was being able to judge if what was underneath was worth the effort.

"Like what?"

"I don't know; funny, perceptive, considerate…"

"Derek Wills, considerate?" Karen thought of Derek giving her his jacket, letting her sleep in his bed while he slept on the sofa, bringing her breakfast, and dry cleaning her clothes. People could really surprise you, if you gave them a chance.

"He did call you, didn't he, to tell you I was okay?" Derek had been considerate to Dev and her parents, even if they hadn't appreciated it.

"He did."

"So there you go. He's not perfect, Dev, but I like him. He's my friend." There, she'd said it aloud. Derek, her friend. Her friend, Derek. It would take some getting used to.

"You're friends now." Dev's expression had become unreadable, but it didn't take a genius to figure out he wasn't happy with this new development.

"Yes." Karen had no intention of giving ground on this. She was a grown-up, she was allowed to make her own choices.

"I don't like it." Surprise, surprise.

"I'm not asking you to be friends with him, I'm just telling you that I am now. Okay?"

"And if I say no, it's not okay?" Karen didn't want to lose Dev, but she also didn't want him dictating her life.

"If we've gotten to the point where you're telling me who I can, or cannot be friends with, then we have bigger problems than Derek Wills. Now I'd like to shower before I go to rehearsal. If you want, we can talk more about this later." Hopefully by tonight Dev will have adjusted to the idea of her new friendship. They would get through this, she just had to keep believing that. In the mean time she had a workshop to get to.


	10. Chapter 10

Derek was one block away the studio when he realized he was humming to himself. The realization caused him to come to a dead stop on the sidewalk. What was happening here? He was acting down right chipper. At any moment he might start skipping or belting out show tunes. He assessed his emotions and discovered he was feeling particularly good this morning. Generally he associated this kind of good mood with a great success of some kind, like winning an award, signing a contract for an obscene amount of money, or having incredible sex with an 'unattainable' woman. To his knowledge none of those things had happened last night, so why was he practically swinging from lamp posts? Alright, he didn't really need to ask. It was Karen. He was rather pleased, both about what transpired last night, and that he would be seeing her again this morning. It was a touch pathetic, but there it was.

"Derek, we need to talk." Ivy. Her waiting for him outside the studio effectively killed his buzz.

"Ivy. Rehearsal starts in five minutes. We can talk about whatever it is later." Personal drama had no place during workshop hours. Was it too much ask that the woman he'd cast as the lead act like a professional?

"Later, right, because later would be better for you."

"Yes, it would." Derek tried to step around her toward the door, but Ivy blocked his path.

"Well, it's not better for me. But why would that matter to you, what's better for me, when it never has before? Why should today be any different?" Ivy was performing her wronged girlfriend impersonation. It may have working better on him, if they had actually been dating.

"Ivy, we don't have time for this conversation-"

"Make time. You're the director, I'm the star; they're not starting without us." It was his own fault; he had slept with her and then given her the lead. Why did he not think that was going to come back and bite him in the ass? If they were going to have any hope of accomplishing anything useful today, he was going to need to hear her out.

"What's so urgent that it couldn't wait?"

"I saw you last night." That was unexpected.

"You saw me…?" He hoped she'd seen him when he'd gone out for Chinese, but somehow he didn't think that was what she'd been implying.

"I saw you with her." This wasn't good.

"'Her?'" With any luck she hadn't seen which gorgeous brunette he'd been with.

"Karen Cartwright, Derek. I saw you take Karen Cartwright back to your apartment." Naturally luck had not been with him. It was time for a little verbal redirection.

"How exactly did you see that?" It was a legitimate question and they say that the best defense is a good offense.

"I was waiting for you inside the lobby when the two of you swanned in at 12:30 am." How exactly had Derek missed her? He supposed he did have his hands full with Karen at the time, but he still should have been observant enough to notice his lover sulking in the near vicinity.

"I don't recall ever inviting over you to my apartment, so how did you know where I lived?" His number wasn't listed, so tracking him down couldn't have been easy.

"Believe me, I'm more than aware that after eight months I still haven't seen your apartment. Guess that kitchen needed a lot of work? But I guess Karen wasn't really all that interested in you cooking facilities." Derek noted she hadn't answered his question and had managed to turn his accusation back on him. Tit for tat. She'd didn't want to divulge how she'd gotten his address, and he hadn't been truthful when he'd told her why he didn't want her in his apartment.

"Right, so you're dodging the question about having my address. How about telling me why you were there?"

"I thought I'd drop by and give you a nice Christmas surprise." It certainly would have been a surprise. He'd been deliberately keeping her away from his apartment and Ivy apparently knew that. Still she'd hoped to gain entry last night, ostensibly as a spontaneous sexual rendezvous. Except it couldn't have been all that spontaneous, if she'd gone through the trouble of tracking down his address and staking out his apartment until he'd come home. Ivy had been after something, apart from a late night booty call. She was obviously insecure and had hoped to solidify her position by manipulating her way into his private domain. Derek had no idea whether it was her position as his lover or her position as his lead she was worried about. In her mind Derek suspected the two were inexorably linked.

"I told you I would be working through the holiday, and that you should make other plans." He had a strict policy to never spend the holidays with women, because it carried heavy implications to anyone without a Y chromosome. Derek may have been a cad, but he prided himself on not letting his lovers believe he was more committed to them than he actually was.

"Working? Yeah, you were working something." He had taken about as much of this routine as he was willing to take.

"Ivy, is there a point to this conversation? Do we really need to be holding up rehearsal, so you can stand out here and make snide accusations? Frankly, I have better things to do with my time."

"You owe me an explanation." Ivy delivered the line in classic jilted lover persona. Derek had no use for theatrics in his personal life.

"First, I don't owe you anything. We never established anything resembling rules about our association, which from my perspective has been based on a mutual enjoyment of each other's company. I apologize if I gave any impressions to the contrary. Second, why ask for an explanation at all, when you've already made up your mind that Karen and I have been making the beast with two backs?" What woman actually believed a man when the man claimed fidelity after being spotted in a compromising situation? The truth didn't matter, one way or the other.

"So you are sleeping with her."

"I didn't say that, I just said that is what you've already decided happened."

"So you're saying you didn't sleep with her?" If this situation had only impacted himself, Derek would have told Ivy to think whatever she'd wanted to think. However, it also involved Karen and she didn't deserve to have her reputation sullied by whatever slander Ivy planned on relying to her devoted following.

"Pay attention, because I'm only going to say this once: Karen and I have never slept together. We encountered each other by chance last night. Drinking ensued. I couldn't get Karen home, so I took her back to my apartment, put her to bed, and slept on the couch. Not quite as a salacious as the scenario you imagined, but it happens to be the truth." God he hoped that was the last time he needed to rehash the events from last night.

"Do I look like an idiot?"

"You certainly sound like one."

"Karen Cartwright has been trying to steal this show out from under me since day one! You expect me to believe it's a coincidence she managed to score an invite back to your ever so sacred apartment?" There went Ivy's paranoia, right on cue. Paranoia, he had to admit he encouraged from time to time, whenever he felt Ivy was getting complacent in her role, but in this situation it had no use to him.

"Yes, she was very canny getting herself so smashed she couldn't stand upright." Unlike Ivy, Karen had no interested in playing games with him. Well, the manipulative kind at any rate.

"Wake up Derek! Playing the damsel in distress is Seduction 101. I can't believe you, of all people, were dumb enough to fall for it." If Karen wanted to sleep with him, she wouldn't have needed to any seduction tactics more complicated than a crooked finger.

"If it was any other actress besides Karen, I might be tempted to believe you. However, I know for a fact that KAREN wouldn't stoop to sleeping me in order to win a role." If anything positive had come out of that first encounter, it was that he knew that Karen had integrity. He couldn't as confidently say the same about Ivy.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means whatever you think it means. Now, if that's all, I'd like to get to work on the drama we're actually getting paid for."


	11. Chapter 11

"And that's lunch. I'll see everyone back here in one hour." Karen had never heard more beautiful words in her life. The first two and a half hours of this morning's rehearsal had been pure psychological torment. It wasn't Derek. Yes, it had stung a bit, to see Derek walk in wearing his typical grim expression and not so much as make eye contact with her, but she had asked for it, hadn't she? 'Church and state' had been her exact words.

She didn't want anything from Derek that could be perceived by herself or anyone else as favoritism. It would destroy their professional relationship; he wouldn't be doing his job, and she wouldn't be getting any better at hers. It would destroy their personal relationship because there would always lurk the suspicion that she was in this friendship for more than just Derek's company. It would ultimately destroy Karen's confidence, making her wonder if she really was good, or she'd just managed to become the teacher's pet. A brief smile of greeting probably wouldn't have had catastrophic effects, but Karen supposed it was better, overall, that Derek had adhered to their agreed code of conduct. No one watching today's rehearsal could accuse him of showing her preference. Her problem today hadn't been with Derek, her problem had been with Ivy.

After months of ongoing tension, Ivy's and Karen's feud had plateaued. Karen had learned to stay out of Ivy's way, and Ivy confined herself to social snubbing, and the occasional in-rehearsal passive aggressive barb. It was an uneasy truce, but Karen had learned that attempting to clear the air only made things worse. Karen had resigned herself to the fact that her relationship with Ivy would never be any better than a precarious mutual tolerance. Today it would seem that their cease fire had come to an end.

Every fifteen minutes Ivy seemed to have an issue with the 'ensemble'. Derek had stuck Karen in the back row and when that had no effect, he had taken her out of their first number all together. The second Karen had come back into rehearsal; Ivy had been at it again. Ultimately it had been Tom, who put a stop to Ivy's behavior.

Tom had asked Derek for five minutes to 'go over some of the harmonies with Ivy'. Derek had agreed and Karen had gratefully sat down with her water bottle. Karen had surreptitiously spied on composer and star, and though she couldn't hear what they were saying, Karen suspected any 'harmony' they discussed had less to do with music than it did with people, specifically her and Ivy. Whatever Tom had said to Ivy must have worked, because for the final hour Ivy didn't say another word that wasn't out of the book.

"What's going on with you and Derek?" Sam sat down next her. He had become a good friend in the past months. He was the only member of the ensemble that had accepted her from the start, and he was always the one who made sure she was included whatever social activities the other member of the group had planned. He never got angry or distant with her, even when Derek decided to pit her against Ivy. Sam didn't harbor the suspicions that she knew some of the others did, that she trying to sabotage Ivy and steal her role. His question caught her off guard.

"What do you mean?" Derek hadn't acted any different than he usually did, she was certain of it.

"Usually any time Derek singles you out or touches you, you act like he zapped you with a Taser. Today, he was picking on you more than usual, and it didn't seem to faze you." So it hadn't been Derek's behavior that has given her away, it had been hers.

"I guess I just got used to him." She hoped Sam would leave it at that. Karen knew eventually it would come out that she and Derek had become friends, but the circumstances that had brought it about weren't something she was eager to discuss.

"Okay, second question, which may or may not be related to the first: What's going on with you and Ivy?" That one she should have expected. No one was fooled by Ivy complaints about 'the ensemble'. Everyone knew she meant Karen and today she had really out done herself. Of course Sam would realize something was up.

That brought Karen to the troubling question of what WAS up. As far as Ivy was concerned, nothing had changed over the holiday. Unless Derek had…no, Derek disliked drama even more than Karen did. He won't have gone out his way to get Ivy riled up before rehearsal. No, it had to be something else.

"Why don't you go ask Ivy?"

"Oh don't worry, I'm sure she'll be more than happy to fill me in later. It looks like she's already dishing to everyone else. I just thought it would be more interesting to hear it from you first." Sam jerked his chin over at the corner where Ivy was standing, surrounded by the entire chorus, minus her and Sam. She seemed to telling a story of some kind. From the look on her face, it was not a happy one. This was not good. She turned back to Sam and forced a smile.

"You just want to have the monopoly on whatever juicy details I might have, and she doesn't." That was a lie, and they both knew it. Sam was offering Karen the opportunity to explain to him what happened, before Ivy's version of the truth became revisionist history.

"You caught me. I am a slave to gossip. Seriously Iowa, whatever's going down, you're going to need someone telling your side of things." Sam's expression reflected the severity of the situation. This was serious. Karen would be working with these people for years on this project. Their acceptance or rejection would make these either the best or worst years of her life. Basically she was screwed.

"What's the point? Who's going to take my word over Ivy's?" Ivy had every advantage over Karen. Ivy had been their friend for years. She'd lived here long enough to be a 'real New Yorker', not some 'fresh off the farm hick'. She had the lead in the musical. If this did turn out to be about Derek, then Ivy was the girlfriend and Karen was the home wrecker.

"Me. I will. Don't looked so shocked, Iowa. We have been friends for almost a year now." Karen did feel shocked and sort of touched. Sam had always looked out for her, but he made it clear that he hadn't deserted Ivy. For him to take Karen's side against her was a big deal.

"But you've been friends with Ivy for-"

"Ten years, yeah, I know. But the thing about knowing someone for ten years? You REALLY know them. Don't misunderstand, I love Ivy, but the girl is more than capable of putting the melo- before the drama. You, on the other hand, are more of a 'tell it like it is' kind of girl." It was all Karen could do not to throw her arms around him.

"Thanks."

"So spill." Karen looked over at Ivy again. It seemed impossible that last night's events could have reached her ears so quickly, but Karen was at a loss for any other explanation.

"There is something, but I don't know how Ivy could possibly know-"

"Thing about secrets Karen…they tend not to stay secret for that long, especially in theatre." That was certainly true. Over the past months Karen had heard plenty about Derek, Ivy, Tom, Julia, Michael, even Eileen, the producer. She'd had tried to ignore anything said about her, knowing that it was all garbage and not worth listening to. This time though, there was enough truth to get her into a lot of trouble. Karen decided it was better to have the real story out there, at least in competition with whatever tale Ivy was telling.

"Last night I went to the theater to rehearse. Derek was there. We talked. I kind of got drunk…"

"And he took you back to his place to make sweet music together-"

"No! I mean yes, he did take me back to his apartment, but he didn't…we didn't…" She couldn't even get the words out. The story seemed to get more improbable each time she told it. It was one thing with her parents and Dev, they knew her and were supposed to trust her, but how could she expect her co-workers to do the same, "No one is going believe me. I lived it and I don't even believe me. This is a nightmare." Sam patted her knee.

"If you say you didn't, then you didn't." Karen looked at Sam sharply. He seemed sincere.

"You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do. You, Iowa, are a sweetheart, a good old fashioned nice girl. You and the Dark Lord doing the nasty? It'd be like a shark mating with a bunny. It would defy the laws of nature." Karen was glad to be believed, but she wasn't exactly flattered by Sam's analogy," So how did you escape his evil clutches? I'm assuming you sobered up and made a break for the door. It would certainly explain why he was riding you so hard today." Though it might seem like a more reasonable turn of events, Karen wasn't about let Sam think Derek had acted anything less than a gentleman.

"No, that's not what happened. Derek was taking care of me. He only brought me back to his apartment because, in my drunken idiocy, I wouldn't tell him my address."

"You're kidding." This was definitely one of those times that the truth was stranger than fiction.

"No, I'm not. He put me to bed and slept on the couch."

"We are talking about Derek Wills here, right? Darth Derek? Zoron himself?" Karen felt a little guilty that she used to use those terms in reference to her friend, although, he HAD deserved them at the time.

"Yes."

"Wow. You're right; no one is going to believe you." That's exactly what she was afraid of.

"Do you?"

"Karen, if you told me little talking mice help you clean your apartment, I would believe you. The story you told me is about that level of unbelievable."

"So, that's a yes?"

"Yes, Iowa, I believe you." It was a relief that at least one person wouldn't be calling her a boyfriend-stealing tramp.

"Thanks."

"Karen, I need a word." Heads turned all around the room to stare at Karen, but Derek who was flipping through pages of the script, didn't seem to notice.

"Sam-"

"His lordship calls, I get it. I'm just gonna go and spread the good word. Or at least try to." Sam stood and offered Karen a hand up. She took it gratefully.

"Thank you." Karen turned to walk toward her boss, friend, and source of her life's current turmoil, but Sam called her back.

"Karen?"

"Yeah?"

"Laws of nature. That's all I'm saying." Karen appreciated Sam's protectiveness, but she knew that Derek wasn't as bad as her friend thought. Or maybe it was just that Karen wasn't quite as good. The thought made her smile as she rolled her eyes and walked over to where Derek was shuffling papers around.

"Yes?" She was a little tentative, not sure which Derek she was speaking to; boss Derek or friend Derek.

"Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to lunch?" Friend Derek it was.

"Do you think that's a good idea?" Karen glanced over at the ensemble members, a few of whom were openly staring.

"Sure. We're friends and we're not on workshop time. I don't think it would be inappropriate."

"But Ivy-" Ivy looked as though she were trying to incinerate Karen using just the power of her mind. Karen would have thought she'd gotten used to those looks by now, but she hadn't.

"Ivy has lunch with Tom all the time, and nobody bats and eye." He was so casual about it, like he was completely oblivious to the atmosphere of the room.

"This is a little different. You may not know, but Ivy-"

"Was apparently at my apartment last night, and saw us go up together. She confronted me first thing this morning. Not an ideal start to my day." That certainly explained where Ivy had gotten her information from. It didn't explain why Derek was acting like this was no big deal.

"Don't you think we should, I don't know, do what we can to clarify her misunderstanding?"

"Believe me, I made it perfectly clear that last night was completely innocent, but judging by her behavior, she's chosen not to believe me. I doubt you'd have any more success. Maybe the advocate you recruited will have better luck. Ivy tends to listen more when things come from her friends."

"Advocate?"

"Sam." It was classic Derek, observing everything and everyone; knowing which buttons to push to get exactly what he wanted.

"I didn't recruit…How did you…Is there anything you don't notice?"

"Apparently I have a hard time with attractive blondes lingering in the lobby of my apartment building." Karen had nearly forgotten. How had neither of them seen her? Okay, she had a pretty good idea of how she might have missed Ivy, but Derek? Nothing escaped him. She tried to picture Ivy standing in the lobby, waiting for her boyfriend, only to see him waltz in with his arm around another woman.

"You have to admit, it probably looked pretty incriminating. If I saw Dev escorting some strange woman up to our apartment…" In that moment Karen could feel for Ivy's predicament and forgive her rival for her earlier antics.

"You'd have followed him up the stairs, banged on the door, demanded an explanation, and then decided whether or not you believed him. Interesting that Ivy didn't, wouldn't you say?"

"What do you mean?" What was Derek implying about Ivy? And come to think of it, why hadn't Ivy confronted them, then and there, rather than waiting until rehearsal to spring it on both of them? Had she been too hurt, or embarrassed, or shocked to act? Or had there been some other reason?

"I mean that my relationship with Ivy is very different from your relationship with Dev. Ivy doesn't need your sympathy. I'd say she's working quite hard to get it from everyone else in this room." That was certainly true. From the looks she was getting, she suspected the natives would be out for her blood.

"Tongues will wag. I'd rather spend my lunch hour eating good food in good company, than worrying about what other people think." He had a point. Did she really want to be that girl who keeps trying to make the popular kids like her, even though they treat her like crap? Or did she want to go lunch with her funny, confident, charming new friend, who made her feel worthwhile, and clearly didn't give a rat's ass what anyone else thought.


	12. Chapter 12

Karen was not comfortable, and it had nothing to do with the booth she was currently sitting in. When she had left the studio she had felt good, empowered even. She had embraced Derek's indifferent attitude, but unfortunately her own lingering uneasiness had returned. Her back was to the door of the restaurant and every couple of minutes she caught herself glancing over her shoulder. She couldn't shake the feeling that Ivy was going to burst through the door at any moment.

Derek was cool as a cucumber. After they had ordered their drinks, he'd studied the menu in silence. Derek had picked the restaurant, so he must have eaten here before, but he still seemed to be carefully weighing his options. The way he scrutinized his choices reminded Karen of how he used to look at her; like she was being meticulously evaluated. In those moments she'd felt he was making two columns in his mind, an asset column and a defective column. She'd never been quite sure which side had more tallies. Karen snuck another glance over her shoulder.

"She hasn't had time to hire a hit man." Karen whipped her head back to face her companion. He was still studying his menu.

"What?"

"Ivy. She hasn't had time to hire a hit man, so the constant checking over your shoulder for would-be assassins is pointless." Damn him and his peripheral vision.

"You never know, maybe she called him last night. I'm sure professional killers work Christmas." Derek chuckled and looked up from his menu.

"Point taken. How I about I take over surveillance, since I have the better angle on the door, and you focus your energies on choosing your meal? I promise to alert you if I spot any armed gunmen." Karen looked for signs that Derek was down playing his concern about their current situation. If any indicators were there, she couldn't spot them.

"This doesn't bother you, that your girlfriend thinks you cheated on her with me and now so our co-workers?" When Dev had confronted her, Karen had been many things, but indifferent was not among them.

"First, Ivy isn't my girlfriend. Our association is more of a casual understanding than a relationship."

"What exactly is your 'casual understanding?'" Karen didn't consider herself ultra-conservative; she had a live-in boyfriend after all; but sometimes she got a little confused about what passed for a relationship in this city.

"Are you sure you want to know? You might not like it." Derek's hesitation to explain only made her more determined to get a straight answer.

"I'm willing to risk it."

"Ivy and I have sex on a semi-regular basis. We attend social functions together from time to time." Karen waited for Derek to continue. He didn't.

"That's it?"

"That's it." Sex and 'social functions'. Karen guessed that meant parties, big events, that sort of thing. That probably didn't include things like ice-skating at Rockefeller Center or people-watching in Central Park. No nights at home, curled up on the couch watching a movie. Karen couldn't imagine a life without those things.

"Okay." Karen sipped her water. She had no idea what else to do. She didn't want to come off as judgmental, or worse naïve and inexperienced. She didn't want him to laugh at her.

"Karen, we've established that you don't have anything resembling a poker face, correct?"

"Yes."

"You and I both know that you disapprove of what I just said." That talent of his was going be very inconvenient for her if she ever needed to hide something from Derek.

"Yes."

"Wouldn't it make more sense if you just said whatever is on your mind, rather than leaving me to interpret your body language?"

"YOU might not like it." Derek inclined his head, acknowledging his own words were being repeated back to him.

"I'M willing to risk it." He had given her permission to be honest with him, just as she had given him permission to be honest with her. They were laying the foundations of a friendship that would either crumble under the weight of the unvarnished truth or be cemented by it.

"This 'understanding' you have with Ivy, are you both allow to…er… 'see' other people?" Derek smirked at Karen's euphuism for "sleep with", but didn't call her on it.

"We never really discussed it, but if Ivy had asked me I would have told her 'yes'."

"You never discussed it?"

"It never seemed necessary."

"It never seemed necessary?"

"No. Why do I suddenly feel like I'm talking to a parrot?"

"Sorry. It's just that you've been together for almost a year, and it never once came up?"

"No."

"Huh." It may have been her mid-western upbringing, but Karen couldn't wrap her head around it. Relationships she understood. Dating she understood. Even one night stands she understood. This weird dating/one-nighter limbo Derek described made absolutely no sense to her.

"What exactly does 'Huh' mean?" At least she wasn't the only one a bit at a loss.

"It means 'that's interesting'."

"And?"

"If both of you are happy with…whatever it is that you have, I guess there's nothing wrong with it." That was what it came down to, in the end. They were two consenting adults, and as long as both of them were comfortable with the arrangement, who was she to judge?

"Why do I sense there's a 'but'?" Would she never be able to hide anything from this man?

"It's just that Ivy doesn't seem very happy." Understatement of the year. If Ivy was content with this undefined open relationship, then she wouldn't be targeting Karen like this.

"I doubt that's all to do with me." They would have to agree to disagree about that.

"Some of it definitely is." Either personally or professionally,Ivy had some serious unresolved issues with Derek.

"If Ivy was really dissatisfied, wouldn't she have said something to me? She's not exactly shy." That was such a male thing to say, as though addressing relationship issues was easy for women.

"There could be a hundred reasons for that. She might not want to seem needy. She could be afraid if she asks for more she'll lose you all together."

"She might be afraid of 'losing me', but not necessarily for the reasons you think." She assumed Derek meant the musical.

"You think she's afraid losing you will cost her the part." Karen would be lying if she said she'd never believed that Ivy had slept with Derek to land the lead. These days Karen wasn't sure one way or another. What she did believe was that whatever sparked the relationship, Ivy wasn't staying in it for professional reasons. Ivy must have figured out early on that Derek didn't let his personal feelings interfere with his work. Staying with him did not guarantee her job security.

"And you think it's because she's harboring overwhelming feelings for me." Karen wasn't sure whether Derek was implying that Ivy wasn't capable of having tender emotions, or that she wasn't capable of having them about him.

"I just think you shouldn't rule it out."

"You're a real romantic, Karen." The way Derek said the word 'romantic' reminded her of the way she said 'conspiracy theorist', like it the described someone who didn't have a firm grasp on reality.

"People have emotions, Derek. They have feelings."

"So I've been told." Derek's eyes drifted back to his menu. Karen interpreted that as a signal he wanted to move on from this discussion. She decided to oblige him, rather than push an issue they would probably never agree upon.

"What was the second reason?"

"Excuse me?" Derek's eyes were back on her again.

"If Ivy not being your girlfriend is the first reason the rumors about us don't bother you, what is the second?"

"The second is that I honestly don't care what my 'co-workers', as you call them, think of me."

"Not even a little bit?" It was true that Derek never buddied up to anyone, but there was a difference between not being friends and being persona non grata.

"No. Not as long as it doesn't affect the work." The work. With Derek that was what is always came down to. There was no line he wouldn't cross, no loyalty he won't compromise, if he felt it was best for the show. It was as impressive as it was unsettling.

"So if everyone in the workshop hated you, and was constantly saying nasty things about you behind your back, you wouldn't care?"

"Karen, you're forgetting that's not a novelty for me." Karen opened her mouth to argue the point, but Derek raised his eyebrows at her. Karen closed her mouth and considered his words. Darth Derek. The Dark Lord. Everyone used those names whenever they thought Derek was out of ear shot, and she had been no exception. They'd thought they were getting away with something, like kids passing notes about their teacher in class. But their teacher knew. He'd probably known from the beginning, and yet he hadn't reprimanded them, he just kept doing his job, the best way he knew how. He pushed them all to be their best, and none of them were even remotely grateful for it. None of US were remotely grateful, she self-corrected.

"I guess I'm just not used it."

"Then this is a good opportunity for you to start." Start what? Getting used to being despised? He couldn't be serious.

"Sorry?"

"Sooner or later you're going to need to shed that part of you that craves everyone's approval." Karen's feelings shifted gears in two seconds flat. She appreciated his criticism when it came to came to her performance, not when it came to her personality.

"It's normal to want to be liked."

"Yes, and normal is exactly what you are not. You have the makings of a star and stars are never universally beloved, not by the public, not by the people worked with them, and certainly not by the people who compete with them for roles." What had started as an insult had morphed into a compliment. Would they ever have a conversation that didn't make her feel she'd was on a carnival ride, going up and down and left and right?

"You're saying it's good that Ivy wants me dead."

"Yes, it means she fears you. She knows how good you are, and it terrifies her. If I was you, I'd be much more worried if she didn't feel threatened." Karen strongly suspected there was a copy of The Prince by Machiavelli somewhere in Derek's apartment or maybe The Art of War by Sun Tzu.

"I'll try to remember that the next time she gets me kicked out of a number." Derek grimaced with displeasure, no doubt at the memory of Ivy's unprofessionalism.

"Yes, hopefully she's gotten that out of her system. With luck Tom's influence will be enough to keep her from turning the rest of today's rehearsal into a complete circus act." Derek had known what Tom was really talking to Ivy about. That made sense; he seemed to know everything that happened within that studio. What didn't make sense was that Derek hadn't reacted at all to Ivy's antics, except to try and accommodate her. If he didn't like what she was doing, why hadn't he done something about it? It wasn't like him to ignore a problem rather than try to solve it. Unless he HAD tried to solve it…

"It was you, wasn't it? You told Tom to talk to Ivy." It seemed impossible, yet as the words left her mouth, she knew they were true.

"Guilty as charged." He shot her a self-satisfied grin. He had every right to be smug. He'd put a stop Ivy's diva shenanigans, without any one, least of all Ivy, being the wiser. Who would suspect Tom of doing Derek's bidding? Only one question remained in Karen's mind.

"Why?"

"Don't worry, I wasn't showing you favoritism. Ivy's complaints were unfounded and she was disrupting my rehearsal. I would have done the same if she was going after any of the other chorus members."

"If you felt that way, why didn't you call her on it? It's not like you're shy about giving criticism." Derek had given everyone, including Ivy, public tongue lashings before, so why hadn't he gone that route this time?

"First, Ivy doesn't respond well to public humiliation. Her storming out wouldn't have achieved my goal of getting rehearsal back on track. Second, a reprimand about her behavior toward you, coming from me, would sound like favoritism, which was what we were trying to avoid. Getting Tom to deliver the message made the most sense. Ivy was much more likely to listen to her friend than anyone else." The level of calculation that went into Derek's actions was impressive. Karen couldn't imagine having Derek's job, carefully choosing which strings to pull to make his performers dance to his tune. The thought of all that scheming gave her a headache.

"Do you put this much thought to everything you do?"

"Oh yes, everything," Derek's wolfish grin had crept back across his face and she felt certain Derek's mind had gone to a place that would violate their unspoken agreement, "Take the simple task of ordering lunch for instance. I've been to this restaurant a hundred times before, yet every time it takes me at least ten minutes to decide what I want." It was like he had flicked a switch, and the tension disappeared as if it had never been there. Either Derek was messing with her, or Karen was the one thinking things about her new friend that she shouldn't be thinking. Either way, it was not good.

"So what's the verdict? About your lunch, I mean." God, she hoped this wasn't one of those moments when he was reading her mind. Fortunately Derek seemed temporarily distracted. He slid out of the booth and stood up.

"The pork tenderloin. Order it for me if the waiter returns while I'm gone. I need to visit the Mens." He walked past her without waiting for a response. She was reminded of that Katy Perry, 'You're hot, then you're cold; you're yes, then you're no; you're in, then you're out; you're up, then you're down.' At least she could confidently say it was going to be one heck of a ride.


	13. Chapter 13

Derek Wills was the winner of two Olivier Awards and was nominated for a Tony and a Drama Desk award. He had directed over a dozen Broadway hits, two independent films, and several BBC specials. How in the hell had he ended up in a bathroom entangled in a pissing contest with a pretentious civil servant?

His best guess was that it had to do with Scotch and Christmas and an intriguing woman who seemed to become lovelier the more time he spent in her company. Odd, considering he generally found the reverse to be true. The more Derek thought about Karen's waiting for him out in the restaurant, the more his current situation made sense. It helped him understand how he'd been reduced to dragging her idiot of a boyfriend into the restroom, before Dev made an even greater ass of himself than he already had.

"Get your hands off me!" Derek released his grip on Dev's arm, walked over to the stalls and pushed the doors on each one. They all swung open, revealing that he and the prig were alone. At least something had gone right for Derek today. Derek turned to face Dev.

"Well?" Derek stood there, waiting for an explanation as to why the boyfriend had decided to intrude on his lunch hour.

"Well, what?" Fantastic, the moron was going to make Derek draw it out of him.

"You came to see me, here I am. What would you like to get off your chest?" Derek considered himself quite generous to be giving Dev this opportunity to vent. He only hoped that once it was all out in the open, Dev would resume acting like an adult, and leave Derek's relationship with Karen in peace.

"Karen's right, you do have some ego don't you?" Derek was sure that the little prig had intended to sting him with that remark, implying that Karen hadn't always described him in the most glowing of terms. This wasn't exactly news to Derek. Dev's verbal dart flew even wider of the mark by his choice in set downs. Derek didn't consider having an ego to be a flaw, as long as you had the talent to go with it. Derek was brilliant; he knew it; why should he try to convince other people he thought otherwise? Humility was for the dishonest and the mediocre. Derek was neither.

"Meaning what?"

"What makes you think I'm here to see you? My girlfriend is eating lunch at this restaurant, as you are well aware." The poor wronged boyfriend, who had caught his girlfriend in the act of ordering a salad with another man. How would he ever recover?

"No, you didn't come here to see Karen." Derek wished that Dev would skip the foreplay and move on to the main event. The sooner this ended, the sooner he'd get to return to the company of Dev's much better half.

"What makes you so sure?"

"You let me drag you in here. If your objective was to see Karen, you would have made more of a fuss." Derek was at least thankful for that. The last thing Karen's needed after the morning she'd had was more boyfriend drama.

"Is that all?" While Derek enjoyed impressing Karen with his deductive reasoning skills, he was less inclined to perform for Dev. Then again perhaps a display of superior intelligence would put the boyfriend in his place.

"No. You've shown up here on the same day that you've had a fight with Karen, a fight which involved me. You came across town, in heavy traffic, knowing that once you arrived you'd only have about ten minutes before you'd need to make the return trip. It's not logical that you'd go through all that trouble to see Karen when you know you'll see her tonight. Hence you must be here for me."

"You think you're so clever don't you? I suppose you could also tell me what I'm doing here?" Yes, and then for my next trick, I will pull a very long stick out of your ass.

"Wasting your time." This whole scene was so cliché it was ridiculous. Derek wondered how many men, in how many different countries, were playing out this routine in this exact second.

"How's that?"

"You have about seven minutes left to accomplish what you came here for, yet you're wasting time by challenging me to guessing game. In fact, you've squandered your whole lunch hour by coming here at all. I'm not backing off Karen, personally or professionally." Did the Oxford man think Derek could be intimated into staying away from Karen? He was either overestimating himself or grossly underestimating Derek.

"Is that how life works for you, Oh mighty and powerful director, you say it and it is so? You want something and it is yours?" Derek was used to ultimately getting his way, but it wasn't as simple as Dev made it sound.

"There are rare exceptions, but in most cases yes." Derek almost always prevailed because he was willing to do whatever took to achieve his goal. When he committed to something, he committed to it, mind, body, and soul. Whether Dev liked it or not, Derek had committed to Karen.

"This is one of those exceptions. You're not having Karen." The fool had some nerve, accusing Derek of having an ego, and then turning around and making arrogant pronouncements about Karen. 'You're not having Karen', honestly, like she was some toy he didn't want to share. He could only imagine Karen's reaction if had witnessed it.

"You don't trust her at all, do you?" For Dev to worry about Karen of all women just demonstrated how little he knew her. How little he deserved her.

"I trust her. It's you I don't trust." Were those sentences scribbled down in some jealous jackass' manual somewhere? They were so idiotic and over used that they ought to be prohibited speech.

"You're a fool."

"You're saying I should trust you, the man who seems to be working his way through every actress who crosses his path." Derek felt that the accusation was rather hyperbolized. He'd been working so much he hadn't had the time or the energy to form any other associations outside the workshop. Besides Ivy was enough of a handful without throwing other women into the mix. Then again, if the right opportunity had presented itself…but no, he'd already decided he wasn't going to let his mind stray into that territory. Still Derek would be lying if he said temptation never got the best of him.

"If you trust me, you're an even bigger idiot than I thought." And that was saying something.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm a healthy, straight man and you're almost a stranger to me. If you think I wouldn't sleep with Karen because of you, you're a fool. The same would go for pretty much any male in this city." The only exceptions Derek could think of were males who were gay or whose ages were in the single digits. Karen wasn't just "from a certain angle" pretty, she was jaw-dropping, traffic-stopping gorgeous. Dev had to know that other men noticed that.

"So I'd be a fool for trusting you AND I'm an idiot for not trusting you? That doesn't make sense."

"When I said you were a fool, I meant your lie about trusting Karen."

"I do trust Karen."

"Bullshit. If you did, we wouldn't be having this conversation." A boyfriend who trusted his girlfriend didn't sacrifice his lunch hour try to scare off his imagined rival.

"Just because I'm worried about her womanizing snake of a director, doesn't mean-"

"Do you think I'm a rapist?" The boyfriend's jaw snapped shut mid-rant. It was a vast improvement.

"What?"

"You obviously don't have a high opinion of me, but do you think I'm an actual rapist? Do you think I'm going to force your girlfriend to have sex with me?" If Dev truly believed he was that depraved of a human being, then his 'protection' of Karen would have merit. If not, then he was just being a jealous git.

"Probably not," There were many unflattering things that Derek would consent to being called, but 'sexual predator' was not one of them.

"Care to repeat that?" He hadn't raised his voice, but he did take a step closer to Dev. The boyfriend shifted uncomfortably.

"All right, no."

"Then you obviously don't trust Karen. You think I'm going sleep with Karen, and if I'm not going to rape her, that would mean consensual sex. You think she would cheat on you and THAT makes you a moron. This conversation is a completely useless exercise in male posturing, because, in the end it, comes down to her. If Karen stays faithful to you, it won't be because you've denied her the option of being otherwise. Unless you plan on keeping her locked in cell whenever you are not with her, she going to have plenty of opportunities for infidelity. What you need to do is put your faith in Karen. You've known her much longer than I have, and even I can tell she doesn't have a disloyal bone in her body."

"I know that." Dev shoulder's sagged as though Derek's lecture had knocked the wind out of his sails. Without the air of righteous indignation and pomposity, the boyfriend could almost look like someone Derek could feel sorry for. Almost.

"Then trust her, because if you don't, you're going to lose her. Not to me, or anyone else, but because Karen won't stay with someone who doesn't respect her. Right now you're not acting like you do." Derek was surprised at himself, actively giving advice to this man he didn't even respect, let alone like.

"Why should I listen to you? You've already admitted you'd like to sleep her. Wouldn't helping me work counter to that objective?" That would have been a fair point, if Derek's intention had been to bed Karen.

"First, because you know that I'm right, and second, because sex isn't my top priority where Karen is concerned." The Oxford man looked skeptical; like he couldn't imagine what else Derek could want Karen for. Derek wasn't sure on whose behalf he should felt more offended; his own or Karen's.

"What is?" What did he want when it came to Karen? Her companionship? Her support? Her trust? Derek thought of Karen's smile, her laugh, and the joy she radiated when she sang and danced. These were the things that gave him the most pleasure.

"Her happiness." Karen's contentment was more important to Derek than his own. That was why he had prevented this confrontation from becoming a public scene. That was why he was willing to stand here and withstand insults from a man who meant nothing to him.

If Karen had seen Dev's behavior firsthand, it would have weakened their bond, maybe even severed it. That would have been good for Derek, considering the boyfriend was a major obstacle to his friendship with Karen. However it would also have devastated Karen, and he considered that an unacceptable cost.

"Do you know how many women I'd like to sleep with? Thousands. Do you know how many friends I have? Considerably less. I wouldn't jeopardize something as rare as a friend by making her something as common as a lover. As Karen's friend I want her to be happy, and as long as I think you do that, you have nothing to worry about."

"You mean that?"

"Every word," Particularly the part about Dev's making Karen happy. If Dev ever did anything to hurt Karen, he'd find he had quite a bit to worry about. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a lunch to get back to."

When Derek returned to the booth Karen's unforced smiled reassured him that she hadn't uncovered his minor deception. He felt some guilt, but mostly relief when Dev slipped out unnoticed a few minutes later. It wasn't as though he had technically lied. He'd said he'd needed to visit the Mens, and he had. There was no reason she needed to know more than that, not when the full truth would injure her. Still, in the future he hoped to keep his "technical" truths to a minimum. He spent so much of his life playing games with people. He didn't want to play games with Karen.


	14. Chapter 14

Lunch had past far too quickly and before she knew it Karen was walking down the hallway toward the studio doors, wondering if there was a lynch mob waiting for her on the other side. Derek strolled right behind her.

"Once more into the breach, dear friend." Had Derek really just quoted _Henry V_? Karen didn't know what to react to first; that Derek had likened their situation to going into to battle, or that he had quoted her favorite of Shakespeare's history plays.

"I didn't know you liked Shakespeare." There was a lot, actually, that she didn't know about Derek. She didn't know his favorite color, or what kind of music he liked. She had no idea what his favorite food was, or if he'd ever been in a serious relationship. These were things she looked forward to finding out, but for now Shakespeare was enough. Finally, something they had in common.

"I'm a British director; to dislike the Bard would be taboo, although truthfully, I can't stand the comedies." Perhaps she celebrated too soon. Karen supposed it would have been too much to hope that hers and Derek's tastes would exactly align on any subject.

"Are you serious? What, do you have a problem with happy endings?" Karen adored Shakespearean comedies. She always felt safe in the knowledge that no matter the trouble the main characters found themselves in, everything would work out alright in the end. You didn't get those kinds of guarantees in real life.

"I have a problem with poor character development and cheap plot devices that cater to an audience's sentiment." God forbid a play should exist for the purpose of making the audience happy.

"So…you have a problem with happy endings." Karen didn't think there was anything wrong with plays that were designed to make viewers feel hopeful and optimistic. Real life could be so depressing that at times a little harmless escapism was just what the doctor ordered.

"Everyone in the comedies are so one-dimensional. They're either lovers or villains, there's no gray area. Most of the relationships are incredibly dysfunctional and those that aren't are flimsy and contrived. The couple meets and suddenly they are convinced they'll be miserable without each other. The obstacles in their path resolve themselves, everyone gets married, and we're supposed to assume that these couples are going to live happily ever?" He was quite the little ray of sunshine.

"That's not true of every comedy." It must be exhausting to be Derek, with his critical eye absorbing everything and casting judgments.

"_Midsummer Night's Dream_: Woman chases after emotionally abusive ex-boyfriend and gets to marry him thanks to fairy intervention." That…may have been accurate.

"Okay, that's one-"

"_Taming of Shrew_: Angry, violent woman is forced into to marriage, and then brainwashed into becoming the 'perfect wife.' _As You Like It_: The main couple meets for two seconds at a wrestling match, then the guy starts running around the woods nailing bad poetry to trees. Yet despite his great passion, he doesn't even recognize his beloved when he sees her again because she's wearing pants. Do any of these pairings sound like good, stable relationships to you?" The only thing worse than the fact the Derek was such an insufferable 'know-it-all' was the fact he was so often right.

"What about Benedick and Beatrice _from Much Ado About Nothing_? Their relationship isn't flimsy. They're two people with a history together who are able to rekindle their old flame." There, she wasn't beaten yet.

"They only become a couple again because their friends trick them into it." So Derek had read the play.

"Their friends help them realize feelings that were there all along. Benedick, he really loved Beatrice. It wasn't just poetry or mooning over her beauty. He was willing to kill his best friend for her."

"I'm sorry, that's a good thing?" Of course Derek couldn't see the romance of it, he was guy after all.

"He stood by her when she really needed him. They also had great banter. They teased each other constantly. They saw everything, the good, the bad, and the ugly, and still they loved each other." It reminded her of the way her parents were with each other. She'd been so lucky up to grow with a genuine love story right before her eyes. They had made it easy to believe happily ever after was possible. Karen smiled warmly at the memory. When she returned to the present she found that Derek was staring at her with the oddest expression on his face. Before she could figure out what it was, it had been replaced with his typical smug grin.

"Maybe it is worth my giving _Much Ado_ a second look. Now, enough stalling." Derek jerked his head at the door. Karen walked over and put her hand on the knob. Then she stopped, realizing Derek hadn't moved.

"Aren't you coming?"

"I have some calls I need to return first." She narrowed her eyes at him. There was no way he was doing this; sending her in to draw fire, while he got to hide out here.

"I'd be more than happy to wait. I'd hate to ABANDON you out here. " Derek's smile became patronizing.

"Karen, if you really need me to hold your hand while you face the scary blonde, all you need to do is ask. I thought you were made of tougher stuff than that, but if she terrifies you that much-" Pride and angry erupted from inside Karen like a volcano.

"She does not terrify me!" The moment the words exploded out of her mouth, she knew they had been a mistake; that she had said the very thing Derek had wanted her to say. It didn't matter. It was too late.

"Then there's no problem, is there?" Derek's smug look of triumph gave Karen the fleeting impulse to smack him. He manipulated her into a position where she had to do something she really didn't want to do, or look like a complete coward. He gave her a roguish wink. Her lips responded in an involuntary smile. He was so exasperating.

"I hate you." She'd meant the words to come out sullen, at the very least, but instead they were affectionate, almost tender. It was a though she'd said a different phrase all together. Karen hoped Derek attributed the sudden pinkness in her cheeks to the anger she'd been experiencing moments before. Derek pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket. He shot her one last lopsided grin before he began punching numbers.

"Join the queue." Derek turned his back on Karen and started walking down the hall, phone pressed to his ear. Chalk that up to another thing she'd learned about him; he liked having the last word.


	15. Chapter 15

When Karen entered the studio there wasn't a sudden hush in conversation. No rotten fruit was thrown at her. No one ran forward to stich a scarlet "A" on her chest. These were all good signs.

There was some staring. Not by everyone, just…thirty percent of the people in the room. Or maybe it was closer to forty percent. Fifty? Definitely under seventy-five percent. Karen willed herself not to fidget. Just avoid eye contact, head down, don't draw attention…wait a minute, what was she doing? She hadn't done anything wrong. Why should she slink around like she was ashamed of herself? One by one, Karen locked eyes with everyone gaping at her. She didn't glare, didn't smile, just met their gaze and held it. Some of the looks were hostile, but most were just curious. No one, not even the angry onlookers, lasted longer than five seconds.

Feeling a little proud of herself, she walked to the back of the studio and started stretching like she didn't have a care in the world. So this was what it was like to be Derek. Not the "I'm super talented and successful" part, but the "Everyone's talking about me, but I've decided they are beneath my notice" part. This not-caring thing was pretty awesome. Karen decided then and there that no matter how this little drama panned out, she would take a cue from her new friend and just focus on the work.

Karen let her mind empty of everything: Derek, her parents, Ivy, Dev, and the other chorus members. The only things that remained were the steps and vocals she would be rehearsing in the next few hours. She was midway through mentally reviewing "History is Made at Night" when Ivy approached her, smiling pleasantly. The smile really worried Karen. A scowl would have meant a tongue lashing, but a smile boded something much worse by far.

"Nice lunch?" The grin hadn't shifted an inch and the tone wasn't sharp or sarcastic. To any eavesdropper, and Karen was pretty sure they had at least one, Ivy sounded like she was making polite chit-chat.

"Yes, it was." Maybe Ivy was trying to make nice. Maybe she'd realized she'd overreacted earlier, and was trying to publically make amends. Or Ivy could have a head injury in the past forty-five minutes and developed amnesia. Both scenarios were equally likely.

"Did he take you to Carmine's?" Karen was temporarily thrown by Ivy's accurate guess, but quickly recovered herself. Again, Ivy sounded only politely interested.

"Yes. The food was delicious." Whatever mind game Ivy had planned, Karen had no intention of playing.

"I always thought so too." Ivy was drawing parallels between Karen's relationship with Derek and her own relationship with him. Derek had apparently taken Ivy to Carmine's and now he took Karen. Ivy was trying to imply Karen was no different than she was, just the latest in Derek's string of lovers. This would have bothered Karen a heck of a lot more, if she and Derek actually were lovers.

"Oh." Short responses were the route to take here. Bullies were all about getting a rise out of their victims. If Karen didn't react, then hopefully Ivy would wander away.

"Did your boyfriend enjoy the food as well?" Karen froze, forgetting every resolution she had just made to herself. Dev? Was Ivy talking about Dev?

"I'm sorry?" Ivy bared more teeth and Karen knew that she was giving Ivy exactly what she wanted. Unfortunately Karen couldn't ignore her any longer. Ivy was smiling because she knew something, something about Karen that Karen herself didn't know.

"Dev, your boyfriend; the other handsome Brit in your life. I don't how he could have slipped your mind. He's quite the looker." With the last sentence Ivy leaned in toward Karen conspiratorially, like they were two best friends gossiping about boys.

"Ivy, I know who my boyfriend is. What I didn'tunderstand is why you thought I was having lunch with him."

"He showed up only a few minutes after you left with Derek. Apparently he wanted to surprise you. I didn't want to have the poor boy come all this way for nothing, so I told him Derek had probably taken you to his regular Tuesday restaurant. I hope that was alright. I was worried that it might have been a little awkward for you." Karen, who'd never considered herself a violent person, found herself wondering how mad Derek would be if she socked Ivy in the face. Ivy's voice wouldn't be affected, so she could still rehearse, and if there was some bruising around her eye, well, wasn't that was cover up was for?

No, Karen was better than that. Her parents had taught her that violence was never the answer. Of course, they'd also taught her to stand up for herself.

"Not at all. Even if Dev had shown up, he's a secure enough not to feel threatened by my making a new friend." If Ivy wanted to dish out underhanded insults, she'd better be prepared to take them.

"So, you're saying he didn't show up." Ivy's smug façade fell for a split second, revealing disappointment. It was like she'd been waiting in line for an ice cream cone, only to find out they didn't have her favorite flavor.

"No." Karen gave Dev a mental hug for having the maturity not to fall for whatever Ivy had told him.

"Funny, I got the distinct impression that he would." Ivy, having a hard time reading the intentions of men? That had to be a novel experience for her.

"Dev's a pretty busy guy. Once he realized I had a prior engagement, he probably headed back over to the Mayor's office. I haven't checked my voicemail, but I'm sure he called to tell me he stopped by." Karen bent over and plucked her phone out of her bag, hoping that Ivy would take it as a signal to get lost.

Karen was nowhere near as confident as she'd sounded to Ivy about the existence of the voicemail. Even if Dev had left her a message, Karen was 95% sure it wouldn't contain anything she'd like her rival to overhear.

"Oh well, don't let me keep you from it." For once the gods were on her side. Ivy strolled back over to her pack of friends, who stood a few feet away. She was still closer than Karen would like, but at least the catty blonde was no longer in her immediate vicinity.

Karen turned on her phone and checked the messages. There were none. She dialed Dev's cell. He picked up on the second ring.

"Dev?" There was a pause on the other end of the line, which made Karen feel uneasy.

"Karen, hi. Is something wrong?" She wanted to ask Dev the same thing. He sounded…weird. She couldn't think of a better word for it.

"Wrong? No. Ivy told you me you stopped by the studio. Is this a bad time?" The thought occurred to her that her call might have interrupted a meeting with an "important person." That would explain Dev's weirdness. Karen hoped she hadn't messed anything up.

"No, it's not bad a time. That blonde woman was Ivy? I suppose I should have guessed." Dev's tone had changed again. He sounded more relaxed, but he was still talking much faster than his usual tempo . Karen glanced over her shoulder. Ivy was standing only five feet away, but her back was to her and she seemed completely immersed in a conversation with Jessica. She lowered her voice.

"Why? Was she mean to you?" Karen could see Ivy being petty enough to lay into Dev for something she was angry with Karen about.

"Not at all. She was very…helpful." Great, now Karen's mind was racing in the opposite direction, with Ivy seducing Dev to exact revenge on Karen. Karen forced herself to take a deep breath in. Whatever Ivy had said or done didn't matter because she trusted her boyfriend. It would be hypocritical of her to be jealous just because a woman may have tried to put the moves on him. Even if the woman was Ivy, the voluptuous sex kitty. Deep breath out.

"Yeah, she told me she let you know that I was having lunch with Derek."

"Yes, she did." Again Karen didn't know what to make of Dev's tone. In the old days she'd instinctively known exactly what was going through his mind. Today it felt like she was talking to a near stranger. She had to pause before every sentence she spoke weighing each word as carefully as someone tiptoeing through a minefield. Any misstep and their relationship would explode with a resounding 'BOOM!'

"I just wanted to make sure that you're okay with it. When we talked about it this morning-"

"Forget this morning. I'm sorry about that. I was overreacting and being an insecure idiot. You don't need my permission to make a new friend. I may not like the guy, but I trust you, and that's what it comes down to." Karen's heart melted like butter. Those were the exact words she had needed to hear. So what if he sounded a little off while saying them? Who cared? Dev still knew her well enough to know what she wanted, what she NEEDED, from him. He trusted her. He loved her. Everything was going to be fine.

"Thanks for understanding, Dev. It really means a lot." If Dev had been in the studio right then instead of across town, she would have given him a kiss to rival all finale kisses in the history of show business.

"I was thinking we take your parents out for dinner tonight, my treat."

"That sounds amazing." Dev was too sweet for words. Not only had he apologized and put his unconditional faith in her, he wanted to do something nice for her parents.

"Where should I make the reservation?" Karen immediately thought of the Italian restaurant Sam had recommended in the Theatre district.

"How about Casa Nonna? 8 o'clock." She really had the best boyfriend in the world.

"Sounds great. I'll have my assistant set it up." He was staffing out his considerate gesture? Karen mentally slapped herself for having the thought. Dev had offered to take her and her parents out to a restaurant of her choosing, and she was complaining that he was asking a member his staff to make a phone call? Just how ungrateful was she?

"Ooohhhh, your assistant. Look at you. Mr. big-shot press secretary." Her tone was teasing, inviting Dev to play along, to rib her back the way he used to.

"Yes, look at me. Karen, I'm sorry, I'm going to have to run. See you tonight." His voice was the opposite of playful. He sounded hurried, distracted, and distant.

"See you there. I love-" the line had gone dead "you." Karen stared at her phone for a moment. Everything was fine, yet everything was not fine. The words had all been there, yet the feeling had been…lacking. It was like they'd been running lines from the script of their relationship, but neither of them felt comfortable in their roles anymore.

No, that was unfair to both of them. Their lives weren't theatre. In real relationships, happily ever after didn't just happen, you worked for it. Dev had proven he was willing to try and so was she.


	16. Chapter 16

Karen hoped that the wine that she'd ordered for the table would arrive soon. They'd been seated for about ten minutes, but so far only Karen and her mother seemed interested in making conversation. Dev had insisted he didn't want to bore everyone with a description of his day, and when she asked her dad what sight-seeing was like, his only response was "Cold."

Her mom was much more communicative, gushing about the museums they'd seen and the landmarks they'd visited. It didn't take long for Karen to realize that this was her mother's version of the silence she was getting from Dev and her dad. No one wanted to say the wrong thing, so silence and trivial prattling seemed to be their only options.

"Look who it is!" Karen turned toward the source of the outburst, thinking that she had to be wrong, that she couldn't have heard the voice she thought she'd heard. Karen had never been more horrified to have been right. Ivy and Derek were headed straight for their table. Ivy was wearing a form-fitting green dress and an ear to ear grin. Derek had on slacks and a jacket and a forced smile.

"Yes, this IS a surprise." Derek cast a sideways glance at Karen. She heard his silent message that he had nothing to do with this. Karen believed him. Crashing a night out with her family wasn't his style. Karen suspected that if he'd had the ability, he would have vanished from the restaurant in a puff of smoke. Maybe she was just projecting her own feelings on him.

"Karen, sweetie, aren't you going to introduce us?" Sweetie. WHY did her mother not understand that calling your daughter "sweetie" in public, once she's past the age of five, is incredibly humiliating. Calling her "sweetie" in front of Ivy and Derek just added insult to injury. Karen resisted the urge to crawl under the table.

"Mom, Dad, this is Derek Wills and Ivy Lynn." Karen chance a peek at Dev. His face appeared pleasantly neutral at first, but Karen knew Dev well enough to recognize the tension in his jawline. Her father and mother seemed to be scrutinizing Derek like he was a bug under a microscope. Karen prayed they wouldn't say or do anything to further embarrass her. Her dad held out his hand for Derek to shake.

"Dennis Cartwright. I believe we spoke on the phone last night. Or very early this morning I should say." Her father was smiling, but Karen was petrified that any moment further accusations would start flying and she'd be caught in the crossfire. Derek gave her father hand a firm pump.

"I apologize if I was a bit abrupt with you." Karen silently blessed Derek for being polite. She knew apologies weren't in his usual repertoire. Her father genially waved Derek's words away.

"It was my fault. I can be a bit overprotective when it comes to Karen. I know she's not a little girl anymore, but a father's instincts sometimes just take over. I'm glad we ran into each other. I wanted to thank you for taking such good care of Karen." Her father actually sounded sincere. Karen's mother subtly touched his arm in affection, the way she did whenever she was proud of him. He glanced over at her and smiled that same soft smile Karen had seen him wear her whole life when he looked at her mother. Karen looked over at Derek and saw he was intently watching her parents' non-verbal exchange. The expression on his face was almost…fascination. No, that couldn't be right. What would Derek Wills find so fascinating about the behavior of a long married couple?

By the time her father's attention was back on Derek, he had shed any appearance of discomfort and slipped into the charming persona she knew he used to woo potential investors.

"My pleasure. I take it this is Mrs. Cartwright. I can see where Karen inherited her beauty from." Karen's rolled her eyes at Derek's blatant flattery, but her mother ate it up.

"Helen. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Wills."

"Please, call me Derek. Dev, I can't tell you what a pleasure it is to see you again." Derek, master of the underhanded jab, had undoubtedly meant that he couldn't tell Dev what a pleasure it was to see him, because it wasn't a pleasure. Obviously Derek was planning on doing that British thing where two people that hate each other engage in "polite conversation" that wasn't really polite at all. This was not good.

"Yes, it's nice to see you too, Derek, and Miss Lynn is it? We've never been formally introduced." Ivy extended her hand and Dev, much to Karen's horror, kissed it. Ivy didn't seem to mind what Karen considered a ridiculously dated and absurd gesture. Judging from her flirtatious smile, she ate it up.

"Ivy. It's nice to see you again so soon, Dev." Typical Ivy, out to stir up trouble, one 'innocent 'comment at a time.

"Ivy, I didn't know you and Dev knew each other." Derek voice was light, but Karen sensed he was not pleased. He wasn't the only one.

"Dev swung by the studio today to see Karen, but unfortunately he'd just missed her." Karen couldn't believe that Ivy was goading her like this in front of her parents. Derek and Dev might be pros at grinning and bearing, but Karen was not. If Ivy kept pushing she was going to get an earful of the most colorful phrases Karen's subway travels had taught her.

"Life is full of missed connections." Karen smiled gratefully at Dev. It was sweet of him to try and take the sting off of Ivy's taunts.

"And made ones apparently. Look at the six of us. What an amazing coincidence that in a city of 8 million people, we're all in the same restaurant, on the same day, at the same time." Derek, as usual, hit the nail right on the head. How exactly did they all find themselves here tonight? Derek was staring at Ivy as though he was certain she might have some insight into this unlikely occurrence.

"What do they call that honey?" Karen was reminded of her parents' Sunday crossword routine. Dad would start a puzzle and when he'd get stuck, he'd called her mom for the answer.

"Serendipity; a happy accident." They really were a team in everything they did, including diffusing potentially awkward conversations.

"Who are we to defy fate? Derek, Ivy, would be so kind as to join us for dinner?" And apparently creating even more awkward ones.

"No, we'd hate to intrude-" Thank heaven at least Derek was thinking straight. Karen would rather spend the evening sitting in the dentist's chair than at a table with her parents, Dev, Ivy, and Derek. The number of possible disastrous outcomes was too great to fathom.

"Nonsense. We'd love to get to know the people Karen spends so much of her time with." If her father had been close enough, she would have kicked him in the shin. What did he think he was doing?

"In that case, we're happy to accept. Honey, why don't you go and see about see about getting us a bigger table." Ivy had jumped in before Derek had been able to formulate a pressing reason why they couldn't have possibly stayed. There was no way out of it now. God help them all.

"Of course, sweetheart." Sweetheart. Not exactly the first word that came to Karen's mind when she thought about Ivy, particularly at this moment. Karen guessed that Derek had used it as a substitute for what he had really wanted to call Ivy. He stalked off to find a waiter. Karen envied him his brief escape.

"Don't worry, Derek will get this sorted in jiffy. He has the most amazing ability to get absolutely anyone to do absolutely anything." Why couldn't Ivy give it a rest? What did Karen have to do, scream "I DIDN'T SLEEP WITH DEREK!" at the top of her tops before Ivy would believe her?

"That's got to be a handy skill to have." Karen agreed with her father. If she had said skill, she would use it right now to make Ivy leave this restaurant, take a cab to JFK, and fly off to some foreign country. She had heard that Australia was nice this time of year.

"It would certainly explain how he was so fortunate as to have secured your affections." Was Dev was flirting with Ivy or if he was just trying to out-charm Derek? Neither possibility made Karen very happy.

"Almost as fortunate as Karen was to secure yours. Karen, how come you never mentioned your boyfriend was so charming? What is it you do Dev? Do you mind if I call you Dev?" Karen wasn't sure whether she wanted to scream, retch, or throw something. They all seemed like viable options at the moment.

"No, not at all. I've actually just been promoted to Press Secretary at the Mayor's office." Okay, that at least was in the non-vomit-inducing range.

"Really? Congratulations. That must be exciting, being in front of all those cameras all the time." Deep, steady breaths. It was just small talk. She could handle listening to small talk.

"I'm sure it's nowhere near exciting as performing for a live audience. Ivy is actually the lead in the musical."

"You mean you're playing Ms. Monroe herself?" Her father sounded suitably impressed, and Ivy smiled modestly.

"I am."

"That's just incredible! Now we can tell all our friends we had dinner with a genuine Broadway star." Karen knew her mother was just being her usual friendly self, but wish she'd dial it back a notch.

"Well, I'm not officially a star yet. We have years left before we actually make it to the stage." What a performance. The last time she'd seen Ivy ask this humble was…never.

"Your family must be so thrilled for you. We've been bragging non-stop ever since Karen got a part in the ensemble." This really was her own fault. She hadn't shared with her parents how miserable Ivy had made her life in those early weeks, largely because she didn't want to give them more material for their anti-Broadway campaign. Now they were gushing over her biggest rival and there was nothing she could do about it.

"Yes. My mother is very happy for me." For the first time Ivy's smile seemed to falter. Karen frowned, unsure why her mother's comment would have upset her.

"Ivy's mother is actually a famous Broadway actress, Leigh Conroy," Karen volunteered. She remembered the day Ivy's mom had come into the studio and performed "Everything's Coming Up Roses".

"She actually came to rehearsal one day and sang for us. It was amazing." One more advantage Ivy had over Karen, a theatre pedigree. She'd grown up in this world, and unlike Karen, no one ever questioned that she belonged here.

"That must have been nice, having a mother in show business who you could share your passion with." Again Ivy's smile seemed off somehow. It was inexplicable.

"Yes, I am lucky to have my mother. But I'm sure Karen feels the same way having the two of you to support her." Karen's parents exchanged sheepish looks.

"Well, we have a bit of a confession to make. We weren't always so enthusiastic that Karen chose this as her profession." Karen prayed that her parents and Ivy would leave it at that. She really didn't want Ivy Lynn of all people to be privy to her family drama.

"Really?"

"New York is so far away from home and we just miss her. And also it's such a competitive industry. I guess we had these ideas in our head about what people in the theatre were like. Maybe it was too much reading tabloids and watching Entertainment Tonight. That's why it's so nice somebody like you." Karen was certain she'd never hear the end of this. By tomorrow afternoon she'd be the most hated AND the most ridiculed person in the whole production of Marilyn. It was fortunate she picked this week to give up caring what other people thought of her.

"Me?"

"Yes, someone who's obviously successful in this business, but is still a grounded young lady." Ivy was really playing her parents for all she was worth. If Karen didn't know better, she would have sworn Ivy was embarrassed by her mother's compliment.

"I believe our table is ready." Derek had returned and not a moment too soon. They all stood and followed the waiter to a large table to the back of the restaurant where another member of the staff was waiting with the wine Karen had ordered. Karen sat and motioned for her glass to be filled. She had the feeling that the one bottle would not be nearly enough.


	17. Chapter 17

This was not the evening Derek had planned. He had hoped when he invited Ivy to dinner that it would help alleviate some of the stress and complications in his life. Karen's words at lunch had had an unfortunately effect on his conscience. They'd planted a most unwelcome seed of doubt that perhaps his harmless dalliance with Ivy wasn't so harmless after all. Derek had thought a dinner out would be a nice peace gesture/apology for any unintentional damage he had caused her. He'd even imagined their night out might have the added bonus of returning his rehearsal to the status quo. Clearly Ivy had other plans. Instead of the private meal he'd envisioned, he was now trapped at a table with two strangers, two enemies (he now placed Ivy in this category), and only one friend.

"Derek, do you come here often?" Was this small talk or a veiled accusation? Considering Mr. Cartwright was the one asking, Derek couldn't be certain. The man was all smiles and easy humor, but Derek didn't want to be lulled into a false sense of security. Derek knew Dennis Cartwright was sharp. In their last verbal exchange, Karen's father had tripped him up in just a few short sentences. He would not make the mistake of underestimating this man.

"No, I've never been here before in my life. This was Ivy's choice." Mr. Cartwright's gaze swung to Ivy, as did Mrs. Cartwright's, Dev's, and Karen's, exactly as Derek had intended. Let Ivy face their scrutiny. She was the one who put them into this situation; she should be the one to sweat for it.

"Their Gnocchi Di Zucca is to die for." Ivy delivered her line quite convincingly. Derek didn't believe her, but the Cartwrights may have been fooled. They were either the best actors in the world, or Karen had been less than forthcoming about Ivy's behavior towards her. Without that background knowledge, it would be easy for them to mistake Ivy for a good-natured young woman.

"What is it about the names of authentic Italian dishes that make them sound so delicious, even before you know what's in them?" Mrs. Cartwright was quite different from her husband. She was as open and guileless as he was canny. They were intriguing to him because he could see bits of Karen in each of them. The duality in her that he found so fascinating originated here.

"It's just dumplings mixed with squash and ricotta cheese."

"I was right, that does sound good. I think that's what I'll order too. If it really is as fantastic as it sounds, I'll try making it myself when we get home." Mrs. Cartwright cooked. Derek couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten a meal prepared by anyone but a professional chief. He'd spent his childhood being dragged from hotel to hotel like a piece of luggage and the rooms didn't generally come with their own kitchens. At university he'd eaten in the dining halls, and once his career had taken off he didn't have time or energy for cooking classes.

"You cook, Mrs. Cartwright?" Ivy seemed to really be playing up to Karen's mother. He only wished he knew what she was after.

"Please, call me Helen. And yes, I do like to dabble in the kitchen from time to time." Dennis Cartwright chuckled at his wife's words.

"Dabble? She records every episode of the Iron Chief. She even grows her own ingredients. All of her meals are excellent, and her Sunday dinners are masterpieces." There it was again, that shared look of deep affection. Mrs. Cartwright actually blushed at her husband's praise. Married a quarter of a century, and they acted like a pair of besotted teenagers. It was remarkable.

"I don't know about making masterpieces, but I do love it. Cooking was something my mother and I used to share. Kitchens hold a lot of good memories for me." Derek was regretting his present predicament less and less. It was like he had been granted an inside look at a world he'd never known. It was foreign land, one of home cooked meals, happy marriages, and fond family memories. It was from this place that Karen had sprung. Derek wanted to know more.

"What about Karen? Is she a closet chief as well?" He tried to imagine Karen in Betty Crocker-esque attire, complete with oven mitts and white apron. The image was humorous, and yet on some level oddly…appealing. Was he having some sort of chauvinist 1950s fantasy? That particular fixation would be a first. The whole Stepford wives thing had always been a turn-off for him. Who wanted a subservient homemaker rather than a sexy spitfire? He had no idea where the thought had originated from, but he definitely needed to scrub it from his mind immediately. This was not the right time and Karen was definitely not the right subject for such musings.

"I believe I'm in a position to answer that question with a definitive no." Good old Dev, ever helpful in pulling Derek back into the moment at hand. So the boyfriend didn't come home to a martini and a meatloaf. Derek's heart bled for him, it really did.

"Dev!" Karen shot Derek an embarrassed look, like she was afraid he'd think less of her for lacking kitchen prowess. Honestly, errant thoughts aside, Karen's inability to prepare chicken kebabs didn't make the slightest bit of difference to him.

"Well honey, it's true, food preparation isn't one of your gifts."

"Thanks a lot, Dad. Now I'm getting it from all sides." Karen was actually turning a becoming shade of pink. She took a long sip from her wine glass. As much as Derek enjoyed Karen's easy blushes, he didn't like seeing her uncomfortable.

"I, for one, am relieved to learn Karen can't cook." Karen raised an eyebrow at him.

"Really? Why is that?" Derek felt the laser like focus of Dennis Cartwright settle back on him.

"Karen's so ridiculously talented in other areas, it's only fair that she doesn't excel at absolutely everything." Karen lips curve upward into a smile of gratitude, meant just for him. Karen's father, on the other hand, looked at him with such singular intensity that Derek felt he was being x-rayed. It was Karen's mother who broke the silence following Derek's remark.

"It's not that you didn't have the aptitude, sweetie, you just didn't have the interest." Derek was beginning to suspect Mrs. Cartwright was more calculating than he'd initially assumed. She seemed to have knack for diffusing conflicts. He didn't notice her skill at first because it was masked by her sweetness and apparent simplicity. Derek felt a small rush of gratitude toward Helen for temporarily pulling her husband's attention off of him.

"Karen never really lacked the ability to do anything. Everything has always come so easily to her." Dennis had returned to proud and doting father mode, and Derek hoped he'd stay that way for the remainder of the evening.

"Hang on, not everything comes easily to me. What about when I took Calculus senior year of high school?" The only example of academic difficulty she could come up with was high level math?

"That's the best you've got? Calculus?" She couldn't be serious.

"What's wrong with that?" Karen clearly had no idea what school was like for 95% of the world's children. Technically neither did he, considering he was homeschooled for most of his life, but he could at least remember toiling through the course work.

"EVERYONE struggles with Calculus, unless they're bloody Good Will Hunting. What did you end up getting in the class?"

"I got a B-. It ruined my average." Obviously he'd spoken too soon when he said the universe had denied Karen certain gifts to balance out her exceptionality.

"Oh Lord. You were one of THOSE students, weren't you?" He pictured Karen as a child, sitting in the front row, scribbling down notes while her classmates daydreamed.

"What students?"

"High honors, teacher's pet, class president students." Derek saw her cleaning the erasers and organizing school dances.

"I was NOT class president." Strange, Derek would have thought that Karen's ability, coupled with her congeniality, and beauty would have made her genuinely popular with her classmates.

"She was however elected to the position of class secretary." Derek grinned at Karen triumphantly.

"Dad!" Karen might have been unhappy with her father, but Derek most certainly was not. It was like he had a sketch of Karen in his mind, and more he learned about her, the more detailed it became. Every added line and dash of color only made it more real and more beautiful.

"We always knew that Karen had such great potential. All parents tell their children that when they grow up they can be anything they want to be. In Karen's case it was the literal truth." Mrs. Cartwright was dead wrong. Not about Karen, but about parents telling their children they had limitless possibilities before them. His own father had never said anything like that to him.

"We used to wonder, if she'd be a doctor, a lawyer, or maybe a teacher. She was always so good with children. But in the end she chose theatre." Dennis gave a tight smile to both Derek and Ivy. It was very different from the expression he wore looking at his wife and daughter. This wasn't a grin, but a mask for a grimace.

"We couldn't be prouder. Or happier for Karen-" Mrs. Cartwright, once again scrambling to make everyone comfortable. He respected what she was trying to do, but Derek had always believed avoiding confrontation never solved anything.

"But it wouldn't have been your first choice," The Cartwrights glanced at each other, as though not sure how to appropriately respond, "Don't worry, I'm not offended. No sane parent should want their children to go into show business. Mine certainly didn't. You wouldn't believe the number of lectures I got from my father on futures that were 'more suitable'" Derek could hear him now, telling him to pursue other careers, that he didn't have what it took to compete in this industry. Derek had often wondered if he'd chosen to become a director for the simple sake of proving the bastard wrong.

"Did he want you to go into the family business?" Of course Mr. Cartwright would assume that. He retained the belief that parents were generally proud of the children, that they wanted to keep them close, perhaps continue their legacy.

"No, he wanted me out of the family business. He was a rather well known orchestral flutist. " He tried to keep his voice light, as though it was of no consequence, that his father's discouragement had meant nothing to him. Still he couldn't help returning in his mind to the day he'd summoned the nerve to tell his father he was going to be looking for work as a director upon graduation. 'I didn't send you to university, just so you waste your life chasing that damn pipe dream! Mark my words, theatre will chew you up and spit you out!' His father hadn't been wrong; Derek had been grinded and spewed. The only part his father had miscalculated was what would become of Derek after that. The ordeal hadn't destroyed him, it had just hardened him. That hardness was what had made Derek the success he was today. He tried to summon up some pride about that, but found that he couldn't.

"I didn't know that." Karen had spoken softly, but he was immediately summoned back to the present by her voice. He was vaguely aware that everyone at the table was looking at him, but for the moment he saw only her. Her dark chocolate eyes were filled with gentle compassion. She knew. Somehow, without his saying it, she knew.

Derek spread his focus to the rest of the table, quickly checking the expressions of the rest of his dinner companions. He only found attentiveness, and perhaps a little confusion as to why he'd paused his story. He hadn't given himself away to anyone, but Karen. That, at least, was reassuring.

"My point is that, speaking as someone who has been part of this world since birth, it is, without question, one of the most stressful and harrowing industries on the planet. Wall Street has nothing on Theatre when it comes to financial insecurity, emotional battery, and brutal hours."

"If it's that terrible than why would anyone put themselves through it?" A perfectly reasonable question to anyone outside show business, and completely obvious to anyone inside it. Derek searched for the perfect analogy to explain it as best he could.

"Having a love for theatre is like having a disease. Theatre itself is the only medicine that's going to make you feel better, but there's a catch. This medicine has the potential for some pretty serious side effects. For the people who think they can live with the symptoms, I would strongly advise them to do it. If, however, what you've got is too severe to go untreated, then there really is no other choice. And in my professional opinion, Karen has the bug." Derek hoped that he could make Karen's parents understand why she devoted her life to this world, his world, their world. If they could accept that this wasn't something she just wanted, that it was something she needed, then that might help preserve their relationship. He didn't want her to end up like him.

"You really believe that?"

"I do. It was all over her that first time I ever saw her sing," Derek mind retreated, yet again into the past, but this time to a much more pleasant memory: Karen walking in, bashful smile, no costume, "Beautiful." Oh dear, had he said that last part out loud?

"Sorry?" Dev was squinting at him suspiciously. It was time for quick thinking on his part.

"_Beautiful_. It was the name of the song she auditioned with. We'd been in that room for hours, looking at girl after girl. And then Karen wanders in. She opens her mouth, and it's not just the song that comes out; it's the feeling behind it. That's what makes Karen such a gifted performer; she can make her audience experience her emotions. It's a rare talent." A part of him couldn't believe he was saying these things out loud. What was worse was that he really meant them. Was he going gooey or something? In any case, her parents seemed to enjoy it.

"You make all sound so mystical." Derek considered Mrs. Cartwright's words and found he agreed. The power to influence, to move people, hypnotize them, what was that, if not magic?

"Theatre can be that. Unfortunately for every minute of magic, there's usually about a month of madness." It was all worth it though, for that one shining instant of extraordinary.

"For instance?" Mr. Cartwright wanted an example of the madness? Derek had plenty of stories to share, but only one in particular sprang to mind.

"Has Karen ever told you about the day of the workshop?" Karen narrowed her eyes at him.

"No, I haven't, and I don't think we really need to go into it." This was going to be fun.

"Nonsense, they'll love it. It was our first big day as a musical. Investors were coming to preview the show, and ultimately decide whether or not we'll ever get into production. Naturally everything is a disaster. Pages are being added, scenes shuffled, and to top it all off, the boiler is busted and the whole building is a sweatbox. These conditions don't exactly lend themselves to flawless performances. Mistakes do happen and this was Karen's day. Now she wasn't the only one to flub up a little, but hers was certainly the most dramatic." Derek could practically hear Karen's teeth grinding, but he was enjoying himself far too much to stop.

"The suspense is killing me." Karen's father, it seemed was also getting a big kick out of it.

"Right at the end of the first act, Ivy is belting out the final notes of _National Pastime_ and Karen falls off the bleachers."

"Oh no." Karen's mother covered her mouth, trying not to laugh. Karen put the menu in front of her face. It was time for the icing on the cake.

"Oh yes. And to make matters worse, she wasn't even dancing in the number. The irony was that Karen nailed every step of my choreography to perfection, but fell when her only job was to remain seated for 4 minutes. Of course my favorite bit, was that she didn't just fall to the floor. She actually landed- "

"Don't say it-" Naturally he ignored Karen's protest.

"On a cymbal. A cymbal, like what a drummer hits after a comedian says a particularly funny joke. It was hilarious." Derek had everyone at the table laughing. Even Dev. Even Ivy. Everyone except Karen, who had put the menu back down so he could feel the full effect of her glare.

"Strange, how I don't remember you laughing a lot on the day." True, it had taken him a long time to see the funny side of what had seemed like one more roadblock on the road to Marilyn.

"I find life's missteps are easier to appreciate once you gotten a little perspective." That what was Karen was for him, a fresh perspective. A new way of looking at the world. A new way of looking at himself.

"I'm glad my public humiliation provided you with such amusement." Despite herself Karen was smiling at him and as he returned her grin, he realized that in this moment every single person at this table was expressing mirth through smiles or laughter. He had done this. He, Derek Wills, the man Tom referred to as "a reptile", had brought joy, not just to strangers, but also to two people who harbored some very negative feelings about him. It made him feel…good.

"I don't understand. How exactly did you manage to trip sitting down?" Karen shrugged helplessly at her father's question.

"I don't know. I was so focused on Ivy. Her performance was so phenomenal," Derek watched Ivy out of the corner of his eye. She had stopped laughing and she was just studying Karen. Karen, who was enthusiastically addressing her parents, didn't seem to notice, "I just got caught up in it and the next thing I knew: Crash! Which reminds me" Karen turned her attention to Ivy, who blinked in surprise, "Ivy, I never really apologized for spoiling your moment like that. Believe me, it wasn't intentional." Ivy stared into Karen's eyes for a beat, as though she was trying to read something within them. Then she did something Derek never would have expected of her. She smiled faintly and nodded.

"I do believe you. And you don't have anything to apologize for. Sometimes these things just happen. It's nobody's fault, it's just life." The only thing Derek found more incredible than Ivy saying the words, was that Derek actually believed she meant them.


	18. Chapter 18

Ivy had been unusually quiet for most of the night. She'd seemed to spend more time listening than talking which, despite being an improvement, was still off putting. When he'd followed her to her apartment, she hadn't said anything, or even seem to acknowledge he was there. It was all so Un-Ivy. Still whatever brought on this sudden pensiveness, Derek wasn't going to let it deter him from getting some answers.

"What was all of this about?" Ivy finally deigned to look him in the eyes.

"All of what?" Her voice suggested that she was exhausted, that he was wearing out with this conversation.

"Don't try the dumb blonde routine Ivy. It won't work on me. I know you to well." Ivy was many things, insecure, manipulative, needy, but stupid was not among them.

"Do you? We've been together nine months and I doubt you know me at all. Certainly not as well as you know your new best friend." Oh good, they were back to this. Let's take 'Crazy Jealous Woman' from the top. Once more with feeling.

"Yes, I have learned a lot Karen, thanks in large part to you." If Ivy didn't want him to get to know Karen, perhaps she should trick him into having dinner with her parents.

"Thanks to me?" Derek wondered fleetingly if maybe he should thank her. He never would have volunteered to eat dinner with the Cartwrights of his own free will, and that would have been his loss. Not only did he acquire some excellent dirt on Karen, with which he could taunt her endlessly, but he found the couple themselves utterly charming. They're idyllic relationship was something he'd rather encountered in the real world. It was almost as surreal as seeing Santa Claus appearing live and in the flesh.

"Yes, thanks to whatever lunacy inspired you to use our date as an opportunity to intrude on her and her family. Or would you like to pretend that your choice in time and venue was happenstance." Ivy crossed her arms and stuck out her bottom lip. Now there was the defensive and deceptive Ivy he'd come to expect.

"Why would it be anything else? After all this wouldn't be the first time your path and Karen have mystically collided. Maybe the universe is trying to tell you something." Her words were as bitter and angry as wronged wife's. It was so typically Ivy to blame everyone else for her problems, to accuse others and claim ill use when she was the one most responsible.

"Do not lie to me!" Derek was so SICK of the BULLSHIT. It was probably why he'd found Karen's company so refreshing. She was the anti-Ivy.

"That's rich, coming from you!" She kept trying to rewrite history to assign blame, where it didn't belong.

"I have many flaws Ivy, but dishonesty is not among them!" This was one time he would not appease her. He wouldn't comprise and wouldn't let her off the hook. She had gone too far.

"Fine, then tell me why you asked me out to dinner tonight!" Well, that had caught him a bit off guard.

"What?" In his confusion, Derek felt himself losing his head of steam.

"You want the truth from me? Then tell me why, for the first time, you invited me to go out with you. Not to a party, or to anything to do with the musical, but just the two of us." Ivy had calmed a little to. She stood before him waiting for the honest answer he claimed he could give. Well, if she really wanted the truth, he would give it to her.

"Karen. She suggested to me that behavior toward you was unkind." Karen was fast becoming the Jiminy Cricket to his Pinocchio.

"What?" Ivy sounded incredulous, like she couldn't believe Karen had taken Ivy's part against him. Of course it would mystify her, Ivy would never in a million display that kind of compassion, to a rival, let alone an enemy.

"Yes, I know. Incredible isn't it that she actually sympathizes with you when you have been nothing, but cold to her, when you sabotage her personally and professionally at every turn. It wasn't even enough for you to do it at work, now you're doing it to her home life with her boyfriend, with her parents for God's sake!" Ivy's cheeks glowed pink, not from anger this time, but from shame. Good, at least he was getting through to her.

"I didn't know her parents were going to be there!" It was comforting to know she at least had some bar for how low she was willing to sink.

"But you did know that she would be!" Stalking him was one thing, at least they had something with a vague resemblance to a relationship. Stalking Karen was completely unacceptable on so many levels.

"Yes! I heard on the phone with her boyfriend and when you suggested dinner I figured there would never be a better time-"

"To what? What on earth did you hope to achieve?" Derek still could determine what her objective had been. Ivy had been polite, if not incredibly sociable the entire night.

"I wanted to know what was going on with you and her!" So that explained the silence. She had been watching for outward signs of their supposed affair. Poor Ivy, all that scheming and he hadn't so much as glanced at Karen's cleavage. Alright, maybe he'd slipped once, but he very much doubted that any straight man in that restaurant with the exception of her father fared any better.

"WE ARE NOT SLEEPING TOGETHER!" How many times did he and Karen have to say it in order to be believed?

"I KNOW THAT NOW!" Derek was silent for three full seconds following that unexpected announcement.

"You do?" Ivy listening to reason? Ivy surrendering her paranoid fantasies? Derek was shocked.

"Yes. And do you want to know something?" Derek was all ears.

"What?"

"Deep down, I was hoping that you were." This was a different change of tune.

"I'm confused. This morning you were irate that I was cheating on now, you're disappointed I'm not?" Ivy's logic would forever be a mystery to him.

"It would have made things easier for me deal to with. If it was just sex, then I could tell myself that you were an unfaithful bastard and I could hate her without feeling guilty about it." Ivy felt guilt for her behavior toward Karen. That was news to him.

"Since when do you need an excuse to hate Karen? You've despised her since the first moment you laid eyes on her." The first time he'd brought them face to face Ivy had unleashed her inner New York fashion bitch on the unsuspecting ingénue.

"No, I haven't." Ivy bad mouthed Karen to everyone she came in contact with, tried to get her fired, was nasty to her face, yet she claimed not to hate the girl. Derek would hate to see the treatment she reserved for those she REALLY loathed.

"Really?"

"I thought I did, but I realized something tonight. I don't hate Karen. I never have. The truth is, I envy her." Where was all this self-realization coming from? Had Ivy started therapy or something? About time, was all Derek could say.

"You envy her? Why on earth would you envy her? You won that part. Your dream came true, not hers." Ivy resentment had always been odd to Derek for this reason. It would have been warranted if Karen had ultimately come out on top, but she hadn't.

"It's more complicated than that."

"Explain it to me. I'm all ears." Despite himself he was somewhat intrigued at the prospect of glimpsing Ivy's skewed psyche. It was probably an occupational hazard, he always wanted to understand why people did the things they did.

"It was close wasn't it? When you were making the decision between me and Karen?"

"Yes." He'd gone back and forth more time than he could count. Karen was green, but she had the talent and heart. Ivy was experienced, and gifted, but she didn't have quite the essense he was looking for.

"It shouldn't have been. I look like Marilyn, I had the experience, I had Tom in my corner, but it took two callbacks for you choose me."

"So?" He still wasn't exactly getting why he should be feeling sympathy for the one that GOT THE PART.

"I had all that in my favor and it was still close. That must mean she's-, what was it you said? 'such a gifted performer' with 'a rare talent'. Top that off with what happened with us and I'm left not knowing why I was really cast, whether I was just the safe bet. Not better, just more experienced. Or worse that I got my big break because I slept with my boss." Ivy actually made sense to him. This was practically unprecedented. If Karen were here, he knew exactly what she'd say, apart from 'I told you so'. She'd tell him to try and be kind, to be a good man, in addition to a great director.

"Ivy, I don't do casting couches. When I direct that only thing I factor into my decision is what is best for the play. I wouldn't have picked you if I didn't think you were the better candidate for the role. I choose you because you are very talented. You have no reason to envy her." They were all honest statements. Karen would be proud of him.

"It not just the play. Everything I gotten, I've had to fight tooth and nail for. With Karen it all comes so easy, just like her parents said. She all these things, her incredible talent, her boyfriend who adores her, her parents who think the sun shines out of her ass, and now you." Derek would be the first to admit Karen's life appeared charmed on the surface, but he knew for a fact that wasn't always easy or perfect. Also why had he been included in the mix with Karen's advantages in life?

"Me?" Thus far Derek's involvement in Karen life hadn't exactly made things easier for her.

"You. Like I said, I know you're not sleeping with her. The truth is so much worse."

"What truth?" Ivy had lost him yet again.

"You have feelings for her. You care about her."

"Of course. We're friends." Wasn't that the point of friendship? They care about you, you care about them. You have lunch, help each other move, occasionally provide bail money. I had been a while, but Derek still got the basics of the relationship down.

"No. It's more than that." More than that? If it's not sex and it's not friendship, than what did Ivy think it was? Not the four letter word, surely not that. She couldn't really believe he was…god he couldn't even think it to himself…the thing with the butterflies and pitter-pattering hearts, and hit pop songs. That would be completely absurd.

"That's ridiculous." Ivy had obviously replaced one delusional fantasy with another. So much for his hopes for her improved mental health.

"Derek, you asked me to dinner for the first time, because Karen wanted you to be nicer to me. You poured on the charm for her parents and actually apologized to her father. You smiled more in one evening with her than you do in a month with me." None of that meant anything. Yes, he wanted he good opinion, and the good opinion of her family. Yes, he obviously enjoyed her company. That all had to do with their friendship. It didn't imply anything other than that.

"Is that all?"

"No. There's the way you look at her." The way he looked at her? Derek wasn't aware he looked at Karen in any special way. Then again he did have the disadvantage of not being able to watch himself without a mirror or a video camera.

"How do I look at her?"

"Like she's the only thing that exists for you in the whole world." That actually struck a chord. There were moments when Karen seemed to fill all of his sense. There times when she distracted him from seeing things he ordinarily would have picked up on, like that first night, when he must have walked right past Ivy in the lobby of his building and not seen her.

"Ivy-" He didn't know what to say after that. Ivy was looking at him with what appeared to be genuine sadness and for once no biting retort came to him. He had hurt this woman, unintentionally or not, and he couldn't make it right. Ivy gave him a weak smile.

"It's okay, Derek. It really is. I'm happy for you. When we first got together, I thought it could be me, I could be the one to bring out that side in you. When I couldn't, I thought that this, us, was the most you were capable of. I thought that your heart only had space for theatre. I was wrong, it seems. There is space for someone else. It's just not me." Derek felt lost suddenly. As much he wanted to dismiss the things she was saying about him and Karen, he couldn't. There was no getting around the fact the Karen was in his head now. Did that automatically mean Ivy was right? He had no idea. All he knew was that since she'd because a larger part of his life, the way he viewed the world had shifted slightly. He now saw people differently even Ivy. Ivy was more real to him now than she had ever been. He wanted to try and fix things with Ivy as much as he could.

"Ivy. I am fond of you, you know." He meant it too. He felt more affection for her in this moment, at the end of their association, than he had at any point during it.

"And I'm fond of you. But I think we both deserve better than fondness. I'll see you in rehearsal." Derek nodded, walked out of Ivy's apartment, and closed the door behind him.


	19. Chapter 19

People say New Year's Eve is about new beginnings. They make lists of all the changes they're going to make in their lives. Every year they swear that this year it will be different; they'll swear less, quit smoking, or lose ten pounds. Every year they lie. Things won't be any different. The truth is that people hate change good or bad. How else could you explain celebrating "change" in the EXACT SAME WAY year after year?

On New Year's Eve people from all over the country congregate in Times Square to watch the famous ball drop. Every year they spend hours standing in the cold and wind to witness live what is ultimately a glorified elevator covered in light bulbs. Every year the ball goes up and it comes down. There are never any variations or surprises, and yet people blow their horns and wave their sparklers each trip up and down the pole. What exactly are they celebrating? The fact that NOTHING EVER CHANGES? Just once Karen would have liked to see the ball vary its routine a little. How awesome would it be if, instead of dropping at midnight, the ball flew up into the night's sky, like Willy Wonka's Great Glass Elevator? That sight might have inspired her to believe that positive change was actually possible.

On the other hand, maybe she shouldn't complain about the ball. Sure, the yearly spectacle never gotten any better, but it also never got worse. The ball never came loose from the machinery and crushed the mob of people. That kind of disaster would have been a more appropriate herald of the year she was going to have, if the holiday had been any indication.

It was her own fault that she'd been sucker punched. Karen had let herself get sucked into a false sense of security. The day following Christmas she had felt like she was walking on a rope bridge that could give way at any second. She'd expected to hear the snap: Dev's leaving, her parents siding with him, her co-workers shunning her, Ivy getting her fired. None of it had happened. Even that weird dinner hadn't been nearly as awkward as it could have been. At the time Karen would have called it a success. Ivy had been polite, and Derek had managed to somewhat thaw her parents' frosty disapproval. True, they both were still exchanging weird looks whenever Karen brought him up, but they were no longer calling him "that man". Dev seemed to have overcome his blatant dislike of Derek and Ivy no longer targeted her in rehearsals. Everywhere she'd expected to find trouble, she hadn't. Instead it had crept up on her from a completely unexpected direction.

Derek had pulled away from her. It sounded strange, even to think it, but it was true. It had started the morning after their dinner out. He'd been his usual distant self during rehearsal, which had been fine, but when they broke for lunch, he told her he was going to stay behind and look over the script. She offered to bring him back something, but he'd declined. She taught it was odd, but she'd dismissed it. Derek was still Derek and she knew he had his moods. She had assumed to hear from him later that night. She hadn't.

The next day he needed to work with Tom on the melodies. The next it was the Act Two blocking that needed tweaking. She'd tried to tell herself, that she was being oversensitive, paranoid, needy, in short becoming Ivy, but she couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't just Derek being Derek. Everything in her gut told her that Derek's feelings toward her had changed. Yesterday, at the end on rehearsal, she'd had her suspicions confirmed.

Karen had wanted to grab a New Year's drink with Derek, but as she walked towards him, she saw Derek glance at her from the corner of his eye and then quickly look away. He busied himself with packing up his notes, carefully avoiding eye contact. Karen had felt all the blood rush to her face. Embarrassment warred with anger within her. Derek was dodging her, trying to shake her off like she was an unwanted stray that had followed him home.

She'd marched right up to him, and stood there until he'd been forced to acknowledge her. He'd opened his mouth, no doubt with some other handy excuse, but she'd simply held up a hand and said, "Don't bother." She'd walked out, lying to herself that she wasn't hoping he'd chase after her, or even call out her name. He hadn't.

She told herself that she wouldn't care so much, if there had been some warning signs. If there had been a natural, gradual growing apart, or if they'd had a big fight she would have been fine with being shunned. It was the shock more than anything else, the fact that she was left grasping at straws, trying to figure out what had changed.

Her first guess had been that Ivy had insisted Derek stop spending time with her and the for the sake of keeping the star happy, he'd agreed. That would have explained his coldness where Ivy could see him, but if that were it, he would have clued her in about what was going on. Also she honestly couldn't imagine Derek caving to Ivy's, or anyone else's demands.

Karen was left with the unhappy realization that Derek had chosen to shut her out completely of his own volition. What had she done to make him suddenly turn cold on her? It had to have been at the restaurant. After a careful analysis of the evening Karen concluded it was probably seeing her with her family that had driven Derek away. After being regaled with stories about _The Sound of Music_, and being Golden Sprout Champion at the Iowa State Fair, he probably thought she was jus some hick from the Midwest who would never belong on the Great White Way, or anywhere near an urbane city-dweller like him.

Screw him! She wasn't ashamed of where she came from. Just because her father wasn't a famous musician like Derek's and her mother wasn't a famous actress like Ivy's, didn't mean she didn't have a place on Broadway. It didn't mean she wasn't worthy of the Great Derek Wills' company.

Funny, that that was what occupied her thoughts today, when what came after should have been so much worse. Was so much worse. Yes, that was what she'd meant. What happened later with Dev was probably too much for her conscious mind to handle, so instead it focused on her pathetic little drama over a 48 hour friendship that had been doomed to failure from the start.

"Karen, for the love of God, would it be too much ask you actually move in semi-synchronization with the rest of the ensemble?" God, what a charmer. No wonder she missed his company so much.

"Sorry." Karen moved back into first position, avoiding eye contact with the rest of the chorus members, who by now probably wanted her dead. Rehearsal should have ended two hours ago, but the number still had quite a few kinks to work out. It definitely didn't help she had not brought her A-game today. Still it wasn't like she was the only one making mistakes. Derek had just chosen to single her out as the day's scapegoat.

"From the top, and Ms. Cartwright, do try to stay with us to this time." Bastard. She'd show him.

"And a 5,6,7,8-" Karen shut out all thoughts of Derek, Dev, and everything else that wasn't related to the number. For the first time all day she felt really and truly happy. Then the music stopped and reality set back in.

"I suppose we'll have to end with that." Karen's lips tightened and she fought to breathe through her nose. Nothing was ever really good enough for Derek was it? Karen grabbed her stuff, and headed toward the door. A hand on her arm stopped her. She turned back around to see Derek standing closer to her than he had in days. His face was so serious, she half expected him to tell her someone had died.

"I need a word."


	20. Chapter 20

Derek Wills was in withdrawal. He could recognize the symptoms from when he had quit smoking twelve years ago. The headache, anxiety, and most of the craving so strong it woke him in the middle of the night. This time though, it wasn't a drug that he was trying to get out of his system, it was a person. Karen Cartwright to be specific.

Ivy words had haunted him on the taxi ride back to his apartment, and into the wee hours of the morning when he'd tossed and turned on his 1000 thread count sheets. It hadn't helped that they still smelled like Karen.

That night he'd tried to convince himself that he was overreacting, that Ivy was being dramatic in her interpretation of his feelings for Karen. Just because Ivy had said that he…felt a certain way, that didn't mean it was true. Despite these self-assurances, he'd felt uneasy, so he did what any rational man would do in his situation: he avoided her.

During the first two days of his Karen fast, Derek had gone out, on the prowl as it were. He'd visit a Manhattan bar, locate a gorgeous woman, and seduce her until she was ready to go home with him. Then he'd leave, without the woman, to go to yet another bar and repeat the process. His experiment had taught him a very disturbing thing; he just wasn't interested in other women. He'd go after type after type, but it didn't matter; the desire just wasn't there.

He'd tried to explain it away as a result of being overworked, but deep down he knew. Maybe he'd always known, way back to the days of Rebecca Duvall, when he'd been having actual hallucinations about Karen serenading him. "Our day will come," that was what she'd sang, or rather what his sub-conscious had sang to him. That day was here, he was, God help him, IN LOVE with Karen Cartwright. Only problem, she was IN LOVE with her idiot boyfriend. Fantastic.

Indecisive was not typical a word Derek would use to describe himself, but it definitely applied in this case. How was he supposed to act around Karen now? How could he be her friend when he felt like this? How did he stop himself from doing something that would make her hate him forever? Should he try to seduce her? Should he try to sabotage her relationship with the idiot? Should he be honest about his feelings? No, definitely no, to that last one. That was all he need to get the 'Let's just be friends' talk from Karen. He was in over his head and he did not like it.

Today's rehearsal had been nightmarish. Karen was completely off her game, and he knew that as her director and her 'friend' he needed to say something to her. He'd put on his best poker face and broke faced Karen for the first time in four days. To say she was displeased would have been understating things.

"You need a word? How about two? Good night." Karen yanked her arm from his grasp and tried to side step by him, but Derek blocked her path. He glanced over his shoulder, to see if anyone was lingering in the studio. Sam and Tom seemed to be hesitating by the door, but the look Derek shot them seemed to be enough to send them from the room. He turned his scrutiny back to Karen.

"What's wrong?" Karen's chin jutted out defiantly, and she crossed her arms over her chest.

"According to you, pretty much everything about my dancing." Karen's voice was the spikiest he'd ever heard it. This obviously would not be an easy conversation, yet he was determined that they would have it.

"Today it was, yes. You're stiff, your timing's off, every movement is forced, and you're smiling like someone's stuck a fork into your leg." It was such a departure from her usual grace and ease that he'd found it impossible to even notice anyone else's mistakes.

"I heard you the first dozen times you screamed at me. I got it. I suck." Derek didn't attempt to contradict her or soften the self-criticism. It was true; today she had sucked, at least in comparison to what she was capable of.

"And thus my question, what is wrong?" There was something behind today's rehearsal. Everyone had the occasional off day, but this had not been that. An off day was two or three mistakes, not two or three dozen.

"We already went over this. I'm stiff, my timing-"

"No, those are symptoms, not your ailment." Karen's entire performance had been so below her usual level that something had to be amiss in her personal life.

"Don't worry about it. I will be back on my game tomorrow. It won't affect your rehearsal." Is that all she thought he cared about?

"Karen, I am not asking you as your boss. I am asking you as your friend." Karen had accepted him as her friend, and as such he was well within rights to be concerned about her emotional wellbeing.

"My friend? My friend who suddenly doesn't want to have lunch with me? Who doesn't want to talk to me? Who has been actively avoiding eye contact with me?" Oh yes, he'd nearly forgotten that Karen had picked up on his distant behavior. She obviously hadn't guessed the correct reason behind it. He couldn't decide if he was more grateful or disappointed for that.

"You don't understand." Her anger told him that whatever conclusions she had jumped to were wrong. Still, she couldn't honestly think that he wanted to spend this time away from her.

"I don't understand? You're right, I don't. I don't understand why someone who claims to be my friend suddenly started dodging me like I've contracted the plague. Care to explain?" There was no good response here. If he lied, she'd know, and if he told the truth, she'd become the one who avoided him.

"Karen, it's complicated." He winced even as he said it. Derek mentally cursed all the men who'd used the phrase when it didn't really apply. Karen scoffed in disbelief.

"Let me un-complicate it for you. Meeting my parents made you realize just how small town Iowa I really was. You decided I'm not sophisticated enough to be friends with." Karen was so far off base that Derek had no idea how to respond.

"You're so wrong I can't even begin to tell you how wrong you are." Did she honestly think where she came from made the slightest bit of difference to him? It had all been part of making her the extraordinary person she was today. In point of fact he envied her upbringing.

"Right, like it's never occurred to you that I don't really fit in with the rest of your friends?" Clearly Karen had some major misconceptions about his life that he'd need to clarify.

"Karen, I don't really have friends." There it was the blunt, rather sad, truth.

"Yeah, right." Karen rolled her eyes in disbelief. He imagined it would be hard for her to comprehend. Karen had always been popular, genuinely popular, not just feared and envied. She must have dozens of people she counted as friends.

"I'm dead serious. I have people I socialize with from time to time, but they're not friends."

"What is the difference?"

"Someone you socialize with will come to your parties. Someone you're friends with will stay to help you pick up the mess." He didn't just mean the literal mess. Derek knew there were masses of people willing to drink his champagne and eat his food. Some of them might actually have even enjoyed his charm. But if everything went to hell, if he lost his wealth, if he was no longer a success, the Great Derek Wills, he wouldn't trust even one of them not to abandon him for greener pastures.

"And you don't have any people in your life like that?" He'd like to blame it on the business he was in, but the truth was it was his own fault.

"Not for a very long time."

"Why not?" He studied Karen. She had uncrossed her arms and was looking at him with genuine curiosity. She seemed considerably less angry than she had been a few minutes ago. If he kept going she'd either become disgusted with his past behavior, or she'd understand why it was so important to him that he not screw up whatever it was he currently had with her. Silence was clearly not going to suffice, so he'd have to chance it, and hope for the best.

"I found out that despite the myriad of talents that I have, I'm terrible at being a friend." There he'd finally said it, out loud. Not to the person who most deserved to hear it, but he'd still said it.

"What happened?" Derek thought back to all those years ago, before he was the colossal success he was today. Back when he was just starting out, young, ambitious, determined to prove his father wrong about him.

"About ten years ago I had a friend, a best friend. He was fantastic: funny, loyal, and smart. We had big dreams. He was going to be a great composer, and I was destined to be a brilliant director. Then we did a show together and it flopped." Ten years and it still pained him to remember the negative reviews, the low ticket sales, and most of all, the looks on the audience's faces. That horrible numbness, like their faces had been given shots of Novocain.

"And that was it? That's what drove you apart?" If only. A minor speed bump like that won't have cost him his friend or his conscious.

"No. I wish that was it. I took someone's advice and did something dishonorable and unforgivable to save my own career." Weak, was what he had been. At the time he'd convinced himself the opposite was true. He'd told himself that it was how the strong protected themselves; by not letting personal loyalties get in the way.

"What did you do?"

"I blamed the show's failure on him, on his songs. I said he was unstable and uninspired and I justified my behavior using the review of one critic and the fact that 'Daddy made me do it'."

"Wait, your father? The famous flutist? The one who didn't want you to have a career in theatre in the first place?" In hindsight he should have known better than to listen to that miserable misanthrope. The follies of youth.

"That's the one. He condescended to tell me that this was why I never had the slightest chance to succeed in the business. I didn't have the stomach to do what needed to be done. I certainly showed dear old dad. I stuck a knife in the back of my best friend. I failed him because I was a selfish coward. I don't want fail you too. So please Karen, tell me what's wrong." Karen didn't say anything for ten long seconds, then she walked past Derek, toward the door. Derek didn't try and stop her this time; he just turned to watch her go. He'd revealed his most shameful memory and it hadn't been enough.

To Derek's surprise Karen stopped at the table where Linda recorded the stage direction. She plopped her bag on the table and took a seat in one of the chairs. She didn't say a word, she didn't look at him, she just stared at her bag. Cautiously Derek walked over and sat in the chair next to her. They sat in silence for two full minutes, before Karen opened her mouth to speak.

"Dev moved out this morning." Her eyes, which were still fixated on the bag, filled with unshed tears. She blinked to keep them back.

"He moved out? But I thought…What did he do?" Derek's head was reeling with this new information. He'd thought that the boyfriend had patched things up with Karen.

"What did HE do?" Karen sounded surprised at his assumption that Dev had been the one to cause the break. No other version of events made sense to Derek. No man would leave Karen of his own volition, so naturally Dev must have done something to get himself thrown out.

"Well he must have done something, for him to have upset you like this." Karen's tears were flowing now, in two silent rivers down her cheeks. The sight of Karen crying was doing strange things to him. He was fighting two intense and conflicting emotional impulses. The first was to take Karen in his arms and tell her everything was going to be alright. The second was to find Dev and beat the living daylights out of him.

"He did. He proposed." Derek's brain was yet again thrown into chaos.

"Oh. I take it you didn't accept." She must not have, given she was here crying about the whole thing. Usually it took much longer than that for people to regret saying "yes".

"What is wrong with me?" If Karen was looking to him to list her flaws, she'd come to the wrong person. In his eyes, she was perfect.

"Nothing. There's nothing wrong with you." There were many things he could name that were wrong with Dev, but he figured this was not quite the right time to recite them.

"Then why don't I want to marry him? I love him, I know I do. He's wonderful, smart, funny, supportive, and kind. He believed in me, when nobody else did. Why isn't that enough for me?" Derek was stumped himself. If Karen believed all those things about Dev (personally Derek didn't), and she believed in marriage and happily ever after, etc., then why had she said no?

"I'm afraid only you can answer that question. What I can tell you it that you have excellent instincts, and if they told you that you shouldn't marry Dev, then you were right to listen to them." He hoped that wasn't just his own selfishness and distain for Dev talking.

"If I was right, then why does it hurt so much?"

"Because you live your life courageously. You're not afraid to invest your heart in things that might not work out. Doing that leaves you open to pain." Cynics like him were much safer from life's emotional trauma.

"Maybe I should stop."

"No. Never say that." The last thing he'd want in the world for Karen was for her to become like him.

"Why not?"

"Because life, like theatre, means nothing if there aren't stakes. You don't want to live your life feeling numb." Detachment would kill someone like Karen. She drew her strength from her emotions.

"Numb sounds pretty good right now." Unfortunately what sounds good for us and what is good for us is rarely the same thing.

"Of course it does. It sounds like relief. It sounds easy. But nothing worth anything in life is easy." Take Derek's relationship with Karen. In a single week he'd run an emotional gambit, feeling more in seven days that he'd felt in over seven years. It was confusing, and frightening, and exhilarating and he wouldn't trade it for the world.

"I miss him."

"I know."

"I can't go back to the apartment. It's so empty. I can't face being alone right now." Her voice cracked in a way he had never heard before.

"You're not alone." Slowly, carefully, he reached out and put his arm around her shoulder. She tensed for a moment, and he thought she would pull away. Then she started to tremble, like there was an earthquake taking place inside of her, then it the floodgates gave way.

Karen was sobbing, uncontrollably weeping. Derek had never felt more helpless in his life. Not knowing what else to do, he pulled her closer, until her head was resting on his shoulder. She didn't resist as he brought his other arm around to complete the embrace. As he held Karen, he whispered the only words of comfort he could offer. He whispered them again and again, long after her last shuttering sob, "I'm here. I'm here. I'm here." He was and he always would be.


End file.
